The air is soft and comforting; a soft blanket of breeze flutters the hair, caresses the face. The earth is covered in peaceful silence. An occasional bird sings, perhaps a love song to its mate; inspired by the moment. The dropping sun emits a soft glow like candlelight, soothing and romantic, like golden liquid dripping from azure sky. The color of the grass is meandering… retiring summer green, paving the way for a cascade of colorful leaves. The wildflowers are shrinking, but no less radiant—fading purple flowers on fading green grass, a perfect compliment from the paintbrush of Mother Nature, a final goodbye to the season. I feel compelled to linger, to feel the fresh air delight my skin; make my lungs feel pure and refreshed. I stare at the trees, which in days will sport the decadent colors of fall before giving way to the stoic skeleton arms of winter.
Very nice!
Your words paint a lovely picture. Nice!
This time of day brings out the poet and the photographer. Gorgeous.