I listen to the sounds of summer waning,
swallows in a frenzy, crickets in full chorus.
Soft scents of apricot rose and lavender
float through the evening air.

Earlier, the shrieks of happy children
as the cold creek water hit
their sunburnt skin
reminded me of other summers,
before the ice flow cracked,
before the rivers emptied,
before the air grew thin.

Tomorrow we will pack our picnic and trundle to the beach.
I will smile as we build our sandcastle,
and just for the afternoon,
enjoy their innocence
and
try to forget the
wildfires nipping at our toes.