May 07

Primordial oak

It is May. We stop as one. Two humans and an Australian Shepherd. A small forest of oak trees. Adorned in budding bright green. Basking in a rare mist so deep. We watch for dinosaurs peeking through giant ferns. The last sun of the day makes the air around us come alive. One man and a brown dog are dancing on the sloshy grass. Leaping for a treat. The slow steady rain of the day is gone, as though heading back out to sea. And we listen for the sounds of waves breaking on a beach made of railroad cars crashing and slam banging into each other. A few children climb the damp play equipment. Watchful parents ready to dart home with their brood at the last sign of this Monday.