Summer Journal

Laying on the grass and looking up, nothing is more beautiful. The grass is summer grass, so it's poky and smooth and green. The sky is a praradise sky, bluest right above my head and diffusing to a misty whiteness to cuddle the western horizon. the leaves above my head stop my heart with awe and wonder. With the loving and adoring golden light of the Aspen-hidden setting sun, there is something religious about these leaves nearly above my head, like the branches belong to the Tree of Life and radiate purest gold from their glowing branches. This true gold and umbrella of precious, subtle cover is complimented by smooth, healthy green leaves.

It's also guarded by a shorter piney tree, that grew almost wider and flatter than it is tall. The piney tree protects me becasue there are barely more needles pointing up--at its soul-bond tree, the one of gold and green--than down-at my face and toes and chest. The sky is more powdery now, and the grass has turned warm and sinuous beneath my back. This is the sweet goodbye of a summer day.