And then the snow.

This week’s writing prompt is: NEXT

Next is both a rock in my shoe and a double-espresso to my soul.

Next is cherry blossoms and leafbuds and rhododendrons like fireworks. Next is the marvel of teeny baby garter snakes at both ends of twilight, soaking the last of the day from the warm sidewalk.

Next is humidity and heat that so closely match my own that it’s hard to breathe and hard to feel real and hard to know if I’m breathing at all. Next is sun and heat and that stiff feeling that tells me I’ve definitely got a sunburn.

Next is long days and pleasant nights and no excuse not to be outside and feeling the air like a cool drink of water as the leaves start to whisper their colorful change. Next is the shock of realizing the leaves have changed, and the ground smells rich and the earthworms are out at night and pumpkins start popping up on porches like grinning mushrooms.

Next is the longing for fairy lights and the feeling the coolness of the air and the ancestral pull to migrate or die. Next is wet cold feet and telling myself again that I should get a raincoat and the mud tries to steal my shoes.

And then the snow.