Sweet Summer

I just don't feel like blogging anymore.

Fleeting Moments

The mini-blinds are precisely aligned, opened enough so that we can see the sky from the angle of the bed, but not enough so that people can see into our bedroom facing the street. The reflection from them creates a picket fence of sunlight on the ceiling. A gentle breeze from the open window tries to push the door closed, succeeding only in tapping it against the latch. A bird sings earnestly from the rooftop next door. My dreams pulse in and out of my subconscious, like fireflies. I awake, cuddled by a husband and two dogs, perfectly happy.

Tomorrow, this place will be teeming with sunburnt humanity, awaiting the fireworks display on the lake. We won't be there. We'll be on a boat on the water.