The cloudless sky is a deep blue.
The sunlight more golden than yellow.
A gentle breeze blows against the Balinese chimes, tolling single notes, one after the other.
Two ravens fly high above the canopy of trees, so fast and strong their wingbeats sound like a breeze.
A bee flies by loudly buzzing.
Birds chirp away in the deep of the forest.
The sound of a lone truck off on the distant roadway reminds of the outside world of people, but doesn’t intrude.
The last days of summer, the early days of fall. Mixed and mingled in the warmth of the afternoon and the cool of the night.
All is on the cusp: endings and beginnings blending and mixing. Loss and opportunities. Grief and hope.