Summers In Ashland

ever feel you're falling, falling through the sky? it's like flying but faster, less controlled. how do you fight the accelerating, excruciating, exclaiming excitement? it's water on parched land in the middle of summer. it's the heat so dry that it caresses you, enveloping you in its dizzying embrace. it's the grass- brown and dry but soft as the hint of a breathe against your face. the mountains holding you as part of the earth, grounding your sensuality in strength not just passion. this is the sensation of falling- into the land into the sky... how can you fight this? it's home. it's the place of the first kiss, and the second, and the third. it's the place of life-giving, life-sharing. Immersed in taste and touch and tranquil, furiously amazing life I laugh. For this is summer in all its quiet power and here I heal for a season of change to come.