waynecook

They're Singing

This early summer afternoon, there were stretches of wildflowers where stems were tangled in artistic messes, while buds broke open and sought the sun. Not yet ...
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This early summer afternoon, there were stretches of wildflowers where stems were tangled in artistic messes, while buds broke open and sought the sun. Not yet hot, just the balm of caressing breeze and I sat at the edge of one patch of these entwined plants.

Since the hiking trail in this park was closed, I wanted to make the most of the passing hours, flushed with joy, breathing deep. And then the scene grabbed at me, like the fingers of a lover, her pouty lips inviting.

Flowers do that, if your mind is open and free to wander.
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