Almost all the blossoms are gone from the dogwoods, replaced by new leaves. The fresh scent of grass fills the air, but I have to close the windows to the early chill. I expect to hear thunder momentarily. For now, the evening is all serenity, so placid that I don't want to disturb it by rolling the wheelie bins to the street. I'll wait for nightfall, when the scene has fallen into darkness and even the sound of big plastic wheels on asphalt will only add to the mystery.
Two pieces by Aaron Copeland that seem suited to the day:
Appalachian Spring (original arrangement for 13 instruments.)