Mushrooms, lots of them.
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The world around us slows.
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So hand in hand do windfall and mid-September clarities arrive.
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Mr. Bear, muzzle deep in a sugary pile, is no more.
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At summer’s end, each day is one of thanks giving.
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This is the boil-before-the-simmer palette.
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Our One Big Me is actually a constellation of multiple, embodied selves.
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Naturally no summer is without its plethora of tag, garden and yard sales.
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Were there an endangered species list for such things, quiet would likely reign at the top.
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