The sun sets pick and purple and orange.
Summer time has arrived.
98 degrees and full steam ahead.
Eating food with my fingers is so much more delightful.
Some days I just have to lay down the fork and knife, and suck the juice from the tip of my thumb.
My skin kisses the sunshine.
My soul delights in the warm embraces of May.
Strawberries taste like strawberries.
Corn on the cob pops so sweet in my mouth.
But no matter the season, hot tea still finds a place, nestled snugly in my hand and tenderly on my tongue.
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