Late afternoon, walking with a friend on the town forest trails and talking all-things-grownup-and-fascinating, her little girl runs ahead of us, stops suddenly, raises her arms in a Y over her head, and exclaims to the woods, “I love this place!”
Relish this.
Slowly, the rain is returning, the streams beginning to flow again. Puddles muck the trails in a few low places. Meanwhile, people ask, “How’s your water holding up?” Word travels of dried up wells. This morning, I stand on my porch in the dark, listening to rainfall patter through the leaves that linger on the trees around my house. The crests of the apple trees hang onto their crowns of gold. We’re at that dipping point, the swing of seasons, the earth yet warm, redolent with this summer’s abundance.
Such a moon —
the thief
pauses to sing. — Yosa Buson
Stony Soil Vermont 
I loved reading this. I love hearing stories about children finding joy and wonder in nature 💚
Me, too! 💚the kid world!
It has the magic we all need.
💕
Delightful. Love the smell and sound of rain.
What a long lovely autumn here.
The rain can be so welcome. I’m glad the drought has broken for you all.
Drop by drop, storm by storm, the water is returning.
I’m not much of a photographer, but your words imprint such beautiful memories; I enjoy reliving them when I look back at your posts. 🥰
💕
Sorry, it looks pretty dry in the photo to me for the rainy season.