shadow

Shade The Farm in Midsummer

July. Hot dampness rises from the garden after watering. Trees are absolutely still. One half-expects to see moisture bead and drip from the glossy skin of leaves. Across pasture fences, Holsteins cluster around a water hole dark with cottonwoods. The only movement: the silent, random flick of their tails and the slow seep of coolness from the glassed lemonade into my hand.

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