First Week of Vacation

I kept the windows down and the sunroof open all day on Tuesday and I took every farm road I could, singing loudly to songs I wanted to listen to. I gulped cow manure air, alfalfa air, horse sweat air, vineyard air, golden oak-studded hill air. I wandered through Luther Burbank's garden because our imaginations are kin. I picked blackberries to stain my fingers and eat memory.

It was a good day.

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