Days of Light

The white paper between pen lines — if only you were there! — it hums with hidden insects.  We play hide and seek with spiders.  They hide.  We find (not meaning to seek).  They dash.  We shriek!

The rolling hedges hum with cicadas singing.  The air fills with vibrations from insect wings.

The intense green of the grass, the intense blue of the sky, the golden sunlight pouring over everything, the heat that lifts in waves from the ground, that makes you fold down onto the ground, makes you sit upon the grass, that stills the hurry and puts you back down onto the earth, the real earth of this moment in time.

The straw hat scatters light over her face, the warm tones of her face glow as she laughs.  The child knows how to live in a simple summer day.  A child knows what it is for.  This just being here now.  In joy.