A WIND TOO WARM

Hot go the forests and fields as the wind comes through. Yet, the breezes are as if dry and do not assuage anything. That’s okay. The shaded forest paths, wet from the night’s rain, still hold remnants of the storm. Some dewy moss and water logged trunks, the moist earth, not dried yet from the heat, and of course the most artistic, poetic, of the bunch…the water droplets that wait languidly on leaves. They are round, sometimes oval, - and glisten like diamond drops in the bright day. What else? Lots of bees, insects, dragonflies and wasps. They are hard at work- perhaps their life cycle is not long. So different from the water droplets and co-existing in the same sphere of environment. So there it is, - the old tree swaying, - the oppressive heat like the tropics or sub-tropics. A wind too warm. And the flying small creatures licking or sitting or pollinating or other. All at once. All in the stillness and then the wind and then the stillness once more.

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