Once again, I was walking to an appointment, not paying much attention to anything but where my feet were going,
to avoid any stray and threatening pebbles; the cars parked along the street snugged up against the curb;
a saw horse with a sheet of plywood planning to be part of a wall, or maybe a dog house. It was the bright red that reached
out and pulled at my eyes. The
berries that had previously been
green and ready to go, on another day
were blushing at being caught out in
the sun, and on this day were brilliant
whispers of the ripening season that slips
us slowly into the turn of the seasons.
But not just yet.
“You notice. And noticing you live.”
~ John Graves, writer
(August 1920 - July 2013)
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