If it’s Monday, it must be August
Yeah, just checked and it is. Bright too. Late afternooning and the air is thick with heat and shine. Check the butterflies and birds, and the sway of flowers standing out and up.
The last grain of July has dropped through the glass. Summer is into it’s last third. Damn. Tempus fugit and all that.
I feel like amping the coffee and, I don’t know, doing a jump-dance-wiggle.
Hey there, August. How ya doin’?