We have Summer at last, for one day - one day of clear blue, deep blue sky; enough warmth for me to wear a sarong; the slightest breeze rippling the ferns just a little, behind the flight of a white butterfly. The drone of a mower somewhere is too faint to disturb; it makes a pleasant, bee-like hum. The fern fronds are softest green. I nod off in the noonday heat, which increases. I think of beaches and rivers and backyard pools, of immersing myself in lovely water. But I think lazily - sitting here, peaceful, in my sweet green garden.
Submitted for dVerse: It's not easy being green and poetic - or is it?.