We are surrounded—delimited by zillions of diminutive bodies-creatures of the atmosphere… invading the atmosphere; tailoring the air in intricate winged designs… minuscule bodies meandering the melody of the early evening air… zigzagging invisible paths.
And there are those tingle of spider webs made out of gold and thin air too. Spider webs that seem to twinkle and dance from the rooftops down to the garden’s floor when agitated by light...
It’s the enchantment of the summer evenings in the garden. And I am here—clinging to the magic of the moment; racing against time; racing against life itself wishing I could keep it all as is forevermore… hold this moment eternally. Just as is.
But alas… I must say goodbye to the last wave of the “month of enchantment” as it crashes along the flower beds of my garden. I know… the month of June lingers in many a heart. And we northern birds must bid our last farewell, until the wheel of time returns it back to the land again, and hopefully, we’ll be here to receive it and welcome it into our life once again.
I'm glad I am alive, to see and feel
The full deliciousness of this bright day,
That's like a heart with nothing to conceal...
(William Allingham, On a Forenoon of Spring)