Gray Skies

Day 036/100

In the garden county you find the world has come to bloom, the grasses sway gently in the summer breezes, whispering their call over and over, welcoming the fluttering jeweled beauties. Shimmering colors reflecting the soft glow of the dying light, while the swallows swoop and play, on the last warm gusts of air, a roller-coaster ride of delightful elegance. The early booming clematis, the flowers now beginning to perish, petals falling softly coming to rest on the fertile earth below. Honeysuckle’s scent pirouetting across the green pastures, gliding past the resting sheep, deep in sleep after a heavy day of grazing. The lowing of the cattle a soft echo in the distance, heavy with milk and ready to relinquish their precious cargo. The trees hang heavy, quietly counting the days until the autumn winds carry their away their burden, allowing them to regain their regal pose. The sky is slowly darkening, the sun in hiding as the graying clouds begin the arduous task of releasing their cargo. The promise of renewal kissing the tips of the half open roses, the sustenance coaxing them to part their beauteous velvet petals, as if kissed by the lips of Aphrodite herself.

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