(Sun Series #2)
Six times I’ve seen the unfolding of the juneberries along this way. Every time, they change. Some are filled with white candles; others have less to offer (at least, this time around). Breathe in the air from the budding trees; this world no longer sleeps. A dry leaf flies up from the forest floor. The sunning snake warms among blossoms well sedged, white and tinted pink. The queen bumblebees provision their nests ignoring my slow steps towards the fallen oak that blocks my path.