Monday, August 1, 2011
Summers were fun - hanging out with my brothers, driving the pickup through ditches, watching the flax fields burst open with color as the sun came up, eating brand new wheat kernels as they spewed from the combine into the back of the truck - flicking nasty grasshoppers with their sticky legs off of me as they flew around that truck...I could possibly devote an entire blog to the awesomeness that was summer-life on a farm for a kid. At least for me.
The cicadas are singing in the trees again. The humidity is oppressive. And we're heading home - at least into the home stretch. The final days of summer.
We're in the home stretch. And it feels like home.
It feels like August.