The Sky is My Garden (Late Summer Version)

The sun is too big this time of year.  By late afternoon, the sky itself is hot to the touch and blank from end to end.  Only the cool of morning and the luxury of clouds can save us from evaporating away.

In the morning, buffed with apple and orange colors by first light, and shaped by winds aloft, clouds present themselves.  Some clouds dispatch themselves  as sailing ships and prairie schooners.  Others form a panda bear.  And there, a collection of white carnations without stems.

In the early morning, the sky is my garden and I want for nothing more.

—Mitchell Hegman