My singing backyard
On the other side of the window in the suburb of Lincolnshire, IL a ravishing scene is unfolding, one that definitely deserves a closer look. Once in the open air, it is obvious that it is that time of year again. My backyard has fully awoken from hibernating in its long, cold slumber and sprung to life. Gone is the dead of winter and half-consciousness of spring; here is the bright and busy season so long-awaited. I take a moment to allow the senses in my body to take over and intake the signals of the air that summer has arrived. It is truly a mesmerizing sight to behold. Everything is bathed in golden sunlight, except for the long, still shadows cast on the ground. My own shadow stretches out beside me like a taller twin. A short, emerald carpet rolls out before me, the freshly cut blades scattered in every which way. Dozens of mosquitoes dart around, seeking its prey to fill their hunger. A blur of brown fur with a wagging tail is running off in pursuit of them. My dad is straining behind a huge lawnmower that is eating up the yard and spitting out a trail of fresh green cuttings. His sun tanned face lights up when he sees the sparkling glasses of lemonade in my hands. The sun above is an unbearably bright, cartoon shaped clouds, the sky vast as an ocean. Flowers all around the size of dinner plates are opening its petal upwards to absorb the beneficial rays. Some of the smaller flowers have limp petals and wrinkled stems. My mom has picked up the long green hose that slithers across the law in an attempt to revive the withering plants that suffered the harsh seasons. The mouth of the hose spits out water falling like waves in an inconsistent matter. A few brown earthworms are wiggling in the mud, while the neighboring army of ants panics over its disturbed home. My backyard has suddenly become a scene from an outdoor documentary in HD. Then there are the sounds of the season that reach my ears like music. The...
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