Last week, a flock of birds rose up from the grass in front of us. I told Hugh about how birds fly south for the winter because as the seasons change, it gets colder and they are seeking warmth. He didn’t reply, and I didn’t know if he even heard me.

Yesterday, walking past our now barren garden, Hugh said, “Where are the strawberries? Strawberries are gone. They got cold and flew away…”

Last light of summer

Last light of summer

 
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