The air is cool and apple crisp as I take an early morning walk through my garden. There is a hint of Autumn’s gold gleaming on the wings of birds as they soar through the turquoise sky.
The breeze rustles through the Mesquite tree, begging for falling leaves.
I meander taking stock; the roses need pruning and the herbs are running amok. It’s been a long, long hot summer.
©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg