Morning Sun On the Prairie

It’s hard to describe
perfect days.
One wonders if one should.
But it seems important
to take them in,
to absorb
and soak
and enjoy
and appreciate.
After an extreme winter
with its cold and blizzards
and an extreme spring
with its floods
and historical hail falls
and an extreme summer with heat indexes
that wouldn’t let up,
it is especially
important work
to notice
and spend time in
these golden days of
a perfect autumn.
Clear, crisp, cool air,
golden sun lighting golden trees
and only a slight – the softest – breeze.
The beauty is relentless,
the quiet, profound.
Quiet,
perhaps,
because we’re in between spring’s lyrical bird song,
summer’s sizzling serenades
and the happy chirping of winter.
(The Red-Winged Blackbirds are arriving
and singing
but not in great masses yet,
so we don’t hear them much of the time.)
Even the butterflies,
orange and black flutterings,
seem more silent than usual.
Deep quiet
clear light
and strong shadows
have descended
like an exquisite balm.
Take in as much healing
as your heart can stand.
Let the days
slay you.