I Know a Place

I know a place where the river runs so deep, it appears to stand still. Samwise and I headed there this morning. But first, we had to round the pond where the haze set the tone for the day to come. It was so thick we could scarcely see some of the mountains. The sun, usually brilliant this time of day, was a muted by the soupy air, save where it touched the water, and turned it golden. The resident geese, who I've come to call the Four Amigos, floated still and silently on the surface, while fish bobbed up to eat the thousands of flitting bugs dancing just above the water.

Have you noticed how the smell of a pond changes on days like this when the heat has already settled in? How in the harsh light, it has almost no scent, but step into the shadows and your senses fill up with the most inviting aromas. The smell of shade has always refreshed me, even more so on the hottest, most humid days.

Because the milkweeds stand in a shaded corridor, their fragrance was sweeter than the rest of t…