Summer Peace

“It sure is hot,” James commented.

“Oppressive,” John added.

The heat was unbearable even in the shade from the leaves of the Maple tree where the brothers sat in metal lawn chairs sipping lemonade from Mason jars.

Silence surrounded them as all the birds sought refuge in their nests among the leaves and the animals burrowed into the cooler earth.

Mozelle and Esther joined the men carrying their own sweating jars of iced lemonade and a pitcher for refills.

Light conversation blended with silent pauses and the sweet aromas from the rose garden provided a much-needed respite.

 

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Author: Pamela K. Young

I have not only lived many chapters in one life, but many lives in one body. The person I am today is far wiser than the me of young adulthood. My life is like your life with its ebb and flow. We are all connected in some way. I am a wife, mother, and grandmother, but what makes me, well, me is the way I wife, mother, and grandmother. I am a liver transplant survivor. Whatever devastation you have survived, we survived in our individual ways. I create with words and photos. I am a writer and photographer.

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