Summer… to a child it means play all day, catch fireflies at night, bathe, sleep, repeat.  I remember one perfect summer morning at my grandmother’s, I was about ten years old.  The sky was a beautiful blue with a few puffy clouds here and there. The sun grew brighter, warming the air, calling us to come out to play.  My grandmother’s house was brimming with excitement as the little plastic pool was filling with water while my brothers and I gathered our toys and towels.

As the morning turned to noon the gentle breeze grew restless and the clouds thickened, hiding the sun more often than not.  Soon leaves were blowing, random objects rattling, and our towels and toys were tossed around by the wind.  A storm was coming, it was time to go inside. Continue reading “Seven Trees” →