the lavender here in this desert-like town is long and hard and spiny. its smell is harsher here, more pungent. and with the heat and the dry air comes a rising moon that lifts itself pure over the hills. pure, white, into the azure it emerges – and azure, really, that’s the only word for it. blue? many things are blue. jeans, cars, the background on a computer for sale at walmart. this sky, though, up here over the hills that cinch the long, narrow, deep lake, this sky is azure. tinged with a bit of violet and yellow at the fringes in the west, where we remember the sun has gone. the car lights up and down the street compete with the moon, seem to win for a moment, but they move in and out, leaving no trace.
the moon rises.
when humans are gone
insects with names yet unknown
will still sing your song.
Amazing picture and text, Isabella.
Hope things are going well with you.
Amazing photo and beautiful writing. Very dream like and imaginative. Great work.