Another sunny walk to watch anemones bloom in hooded clearings. I am finally able to Identify the call of green woodpeckers and blue herons. I collect flowers in bags with wet paper napkins and proceed to stealing walks into forbidden cottage fields.
Cars swoosh by and bees awake alongside. I tip-toe to their tune. A bluer shade of sea wash ashore, revealing trees admiring birds’ nests in their hair. I find the crushed seashells I picked from the children’s sand castles to be excellent potfillers for miniature cacti.
Yesterday, a pink desert star rose from underneath the tiny beach. It took me by surprise. The way most loves do. Make-believe ones or otherwise.
Just like shadows become clearer in the month of spring. I wave happily to myself walking by. The perfect baseball cap making the sun’s sting gentle on my already freckled nose. Another sunny walk to watch myself bloom in hooded clearings. Make-believe ones or otherwise.
The Paths of the Spirit 