, , ,

Heat flickers up from the pavement. Even the water looks hot. It’s grey, reflecting the faint blue sky so far off, and the phoenix feathers trailing high, high, high. If this is a hint of summer, I’ll leapfrog from shade to shade. I’ll find the water, cool and cold, running down from the snow pack high above. A few thousand more hills. A few more weeks, and I’ll welcome the mountain.