A walk through the summerfields on Oak Island. If you were a landscape, what would you be? He said the mountain woods, with a river, and huge trees overhead. I said a meadow, with tall grasses and wildflowers. Soft blue hills and silver water in the distance. Exactly like this. Especially on a bright gray day, where the clouds stack up like ruffles coming in from the sea. Where the berries are not quite ripe. Where the bees buzz along the edges of the hedgerow. Where the little birds swoop and dart. Where the soft seeds parachute to down to soft landings. Where the lacy blossoms and the golden grasses line the path for miles and miles.
Ah, one more gratuitous hottie shot, for good measure. It's Monday.