Time flies
Time flies. Seasons overlap. Years vanish on the wind, like smoke from an untended fire. A year ago, as summer began, I started to write one last novel. The more things change... henrymitchellbooks.com
For the flowers...
Summer arrived yesterday, according to the calendar, although it has felt like summer here for the past week or so. Rhododendron are blooming outside our door and thundershowers punctuate our afternoons.
We complain about the heat until the day-trippers come up the mountain and shame us raving about how pleasant and cool it is here. By July, they will hardly notice the difference. Meanwhile, we'll be grateful for the flowers and curse the mosquitos.
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