hiss

Sunny. Fourth of July weekend. Spiders in the bathtub. White's pool open for public swimming in Rutland. American Legion baseball has begun. St. John's Wort & Black Eyed Susan appear. I was out walking in a pasture the other day in the hills along the crossroads. Hiss of the wind through the tall grass...

Sometimes, in a summer morning, having taken my accustomed bath, I sat in my sunny doorway from sunrise til noon, rapt in a reverie, amidst the pines and hickories and sumacs, in undisturbed solitude and stillness, while the birds sang around or flitted noiseless through the house...I grew in those seasons like corn in the night, and they were far better than any work of the hands would have been.
Henry David Thoreau