Thursday, July 3, 2014


     Seventy-three degrees on this afternoon that swiftly moves from sun to shade. The breeze is brisk and constant; it should perhaps be called a wind. But with the mild temperatures, it is kind and not the least bit harsh.
     I know this sort of breezy day can be tough on my joints and sinuses, but still I love it. I love the sight and sound of it, and the way it swishes tall trees back and forth across the sky like an old-time housewife sweeping her walks. 
     And then I realize this stirs another memory for me---the sound of the motor of my father's old '34 Buick when he arrived home after work at night when I was a child. I always knew when my dad was arriving because the sound of that venerable car was the same as the sound of the winds rushing through the leaves of the trees.
     Perhaps THAT'S why I am so happy with the breezes swirling all around me on this day.