Last days of Summer

I lay in the warm sun-kissed grass with the wind gently stirring, the sun glaring off my lashes.  I shield my eyes with one hand as I watch the clouds dance across the sky.  Soft puffs of cotton candy.  If I stick my tongue out, surely I can taste them.

Laying here, I have one ear turned to the sound of rustling leaves.  A sure sign the deer are traveling through the pasture and a clear indicator  the season is changing.  Fall is right around the corner.  The air is more languid, life has slowed down to a slumberous crawl.  A fly buzzes lazily nearby and dogs bark in the distance.

There's not much definition to the clouds today.  No fluffy bears or puffy dragons. A jet shoots by overhead leaving white streaks in its wake.

I roll over on my belly, propping my chin in my hands.  I'd hoped to recapture a childhood memory of calling out cloud shapes.  Oh look!  There's a monster!  Over there!  It's a clown!  A boat! A kite!  Whatever tickled my fanciful imagination, if I looked hard enough, it would be there.

I remember wonderful summer days doing this very same thing with my sons when they were little.  Each of us excitedly vying to be the next to find a really cool cloud.  Laying here makes me drowsy and I let my mind float back in time.  I drift away...slowly....with a small smile curving my lips.