1. I smell cut grass and smoke. It draws memories of the clam steam picnics my father would prepare, cutting the grass and laying the coals for an all day fire.
2. A young Bobwhite pecks through my flower bed. I've heard their gentle call in the fields all these years, but this is the first one I have actually seen. I call the girls and we crowd in the window to watch.
3. A quick little lick of the lips, done subconsciously, as he brings the icy cold beverage up for his first sip.
No comments:
Post a Comment