Head in the clouds.

This morning, during a walk, Drew commented, "Dad, it smells like summer in this spot."


... as places that are flat and stark at noon fill with shadows and mystery in the evening,


... as darkness becomes a reservoir from which the eyes drink,


... the clouds promise rain that comes like passion and leaves like redemption,


... rain that delivers itself with thunder,


... with lightning,


... with a rise of scents in this place so pure that moisture, dust,


... and the various bushes all have their own smell in the humidity.
- Rebecca Solnit