I discovered the following scribbled on the page of a magazine one day and I ripped it out to save. It seems like I had a thought while reading and I wanted to get it down right away. I thought it was the beginning of a story or a poem, but when I finally read it I see it was just free flow. It's unedited... well, I may have changed a word or two, but it's not re-written.
Thoughts in summer...
I like the outdoors, but I don't like to be outside. The heat, the bugs... they both go against what I find enjoyable. But if the clouds suddenly interrupt the sun's rays, a breeze picks up and the birds begin a frantic song it's the perfect time for me to enjoy being outside. The bugs relax a little and I can concentrate on the sound of the leaves and the darkening of the sky.
I can think without sweat pouring down my face. The breeze ignites my thoughts and my underlying love of nature. Now, under the cover of clouds with a light warmth my thoughts turn to dreams. I imagine myself in the plane that's passing overhead. I don't look; I just see it within my mind... another place where being outside is perfect.
I'm not sure what I was going to do with those words, but I couldn't just throw them away. That would seem a waste. Just thought I would share them with you.