February 28, 1990 | Diary | Age 12
Dear Diary,
Life is good! I am sitting now on our laundry room steps outside, with my warm feet resting on the newly cleaned patio. A bee has just passed, has it been so long since I heard their buzzing?
Now a helicopter is passing above, the throbbing boom still ringing in my ears. A patch
of lazy summer sun streams through my long sunny brown hair. The sky could be no more bluer and the sunlight, glorious sunlight warms my back.
of lazy summer sun streams through my long sunny brown hair. The sky could be no more bluer and the sunlight, glorious sunlight warms my back.
Chattering chickadees churp cheerfully in the dead - but bursting with other life - stags, shrouded in cool, lustrous shade. How sweet a sound the music of summer. It has always intrigued me, the way sunlight silouttes through nature's creations. Summer shadows have always been magnificent. I love them!
Yes indeed, summer is here.
*
Anne - I'm anticipating the arrival of your next letter, my friend.
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Dear Twelve, I know how deceptive early spring in the Northwest can be. You are not quite to the summer yet, girl. Almost though.
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