The May heatwave sizzles.
In childhood, summer felt endless. Time no longer feels so kind in this so-called golden age.
Wise, dignified? Not me.
I find shade by a tree and remember: life is still what I make it.
And life is good, as the light dances between the leaves.
Brian Maycock was sixty in March. He’s enjoying writing more than ever.
Beautiful message.
Loved this! Thank you so much.
So true…
Lovely, Brian. I never tire of watching the light dance between the leaves.