The sky is dark and soft, and the air is filled with the scent of a brewing storm. But the grey of the cloudy sky has its magic, for, in the absence of the blinding summer sunlight, I can look straight upward at the sky. Dozens of songbirds and their fledglings are scattered in a crowded, busy silhouette against the grey. I don't know if there are always so many at the edge of the woods when I walk here, but they are remarkable today.
Here at my thoughtful spot the dark sky is hidden by the engulfing, dancing shades of green and growing things. Not a flower bloom is to be seen - the jewelweed is late this year - everything is all rich, deep, multi-hued green. Even the oddly handsome little fellow who has decided to sit next to my mossy rock blends almost invisibly into the green around us. He looks like some sort of Katydid, but I can't seem to identify him concretely.
The earth has donned her mantle of brightest green;
Do You Have a