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Verano

I miss:

The tumbleweeds and pine trees. The still dry air and vast landscapes of rock and desert. Endless days to contemplate and ignore the future. Full moons and burning suns. The albums, songs, and scratched up ones. Dirty backroads and strange small-town stores. The coffee, the cigarettes, the lemondrops. The taxidermy. The fires. The reading. The phone-calls. Scenic lookouts to cool the engine. Soaring birds in open valleys. The burning sand and pavement. Wading in open waters. The sun-burns and sunglasses. Endless highways on endless nights. The photographs and flickering light. The walks. The preparation and execution of plans. I didn't miss winter once.

And summer ends.

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