In My Rearview Mirror

Driving east at sunset.


Tides recede.

Mist retreats.


Windows rolled down.


Inhale freshly hayed fields, cool crispy cucumber wafting, pungent peas and corn harvest wafting on the breeze.


Fills my soul.


Dusk graces the islands, the water, the sky.

Palest to richest to deepest then lightest hues of blue.


Summer tries to hold on in a struggle with autumn — like twisting, twirling, crispy gold and red and orange maple leaves losing their grip.


Melting creamcicle sunset drips over golden gilded islands into the glassy bay.


In my rearview mirror.



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