I wish you were here with me, right this very moment. I am sitting on one of the face-to-face gliders on our pretty screen porch. Straight ahead are the woods that line the Cope’s yard; the trees form a wall of Early June Green that wraps around the corner of the porch, along the edge of our small cove, then continue around behind me, a protective (and comforting) cocoon. Moment to moment the wind pushes up through those branches, rustling the leaves in gentle, choreographed waves. The colors sweep from light to dark to light again, the tall elms sway.
It is as if the world is in slow motion.
And it is raining. A quiet, gentle rain that provides a perfect percussive backdrop for the songbirds—a cacophony so layered I need merely close my eyes and I am there, deep, deep in the rainforest.
And now, the call of a mourning dove.
Summer will be here soon, the heat of summer, blinding, relentless, exhausting. This I know.
But for now, here in this peaceful place, all the world feels lush and green and growing.