thoughts of summer

Summer is so far away. I was remembering a day in July when I was ambling about in the Arboretum with the aim of getting a good view of the Blue Hills. I decided to walk up Bussey Hill with no shoes on (hey, summer is when you're supposed to do those things). The overgrown path was softer on my feet than any carpet, but also certainly wetter. In a neglected spot I found the stump of a tree from which a seat had been carved. "It must be Oberon's throne, the king of fairies," I quickly decided.

I sat on it for a bit, meaning no offense, offering that I would certainly leave before it was needed. The fairies turned into mosquitoes and pointedly asked me to leave. Further up the hill, I found the stand of water that must be their reservoir.

When I got to the top of the hills, the pines were making that lovely sound they do in wind. I was thinking I would do well to stand up once in a while and move the way the trees do in the wind.