Early August Sights, Sounds

Mary Isabelle in cool repose

Skink in the sun. This fellow doesn’t have his blue tail on. Some of them do.

Rose mallow

Rose Mallow. This reminds me that when I was a girl I used to imagine the colorful insides of flowers to be ballrooms, and the stamens were women in their gowns, dancing.

These insect sounds have the sort of lazy, late-summer drone that all my life has made me want to find a spot to lie down and take a nap.

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