Cool and Fresh

It's that time of year when my attention turns to sprucing up the patio, porch, and gardens,

I was outdoors on Sunday following a day of soaking rains. The air was brisk and had that special fresh bouquet that comes after Mother Nature has completed some serious house cleaning.

The sky was a deep blue, clouds were only occasional and puffy, and sounds carried for miles.

It was the kind of day that makes me test the capacity of my lungs. The kind of day when I tend to forget about things I have to do and simply stare at the sky.

I found myself imagining I was in a meadow along the yellow brick road, with Emerald City in the background. I was ready to spread my arms wide and fall backward, carefree, into the cushioning meadow grass.

Then I realized that trips to the land of Oz required spontaneous song. My magical moment was broken. Were I to pelt out a tune, the newly blooming flowers would draw their petals shut in dismay.

I turned my attention to the gardening chores at hand,