Early July A.M.

Midsummer, we’re at the numberless place in July where we might commence to take swimming at dusk as a given, to be exasperated by heat, to seek solace in a cool living room from the day’s sharp light.

As summer might unwind forever.

Green was the silence, wet was the light,
the month of June trembled like a butterfly.

— Pablo Neruda

IMG_2754.jpg
Brattleboro, Vermont