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The warm summer breeze. It feels like a life time ago that we experienced something that hugs you so softly with ever pass. The trees bow gently to it, as if a bidding it to return again and again so that they my spread their own kin that will shade the  land in years to come. The water ripples below it as if attempting to expand on its horizons and to cool down under the hot, summer sun. The dusty terrain participates in a dance so entirely improvised that it seems to become something less boring and something more fascinating.

The gusts bring life to the ever sill world, where the only thing in motion of its own is the geese, squirrels and the occasional human that finds its way off the beaten path. Before the winds, the motionless world seems to be frozen in time, caught in a cycle of never truly being free; stuck without guidance and without color. Then the summer returns and, with it, a wall of motion that will bring about the life not experienced in the early and late parts of the year when everything seems to have lost all hope and bares only variation of grey. All things seemingly burst to life and give a heartbeat to the land when the wind tumbles through. Many cheer for this peace and gentle color, others are caught in a whirlwind of memories, all those that are so easily remembered with the taste of the summer air and all those that are always on the tip of your tongue, fighting for your attention because deep down they truly are important, you just can’t remember why.

Again, the winds will fade. The colors will strip from the land and we will face the grey lifelessness of our environment once again. However, remember as we will, summer will once again return, and the whirlwind of life will grace the lands. Remembering all that will be and all that we look toward will always brighten the gloom and bring color to our world.

 

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