Goldenrod

Things are back to feeling haywire. A scramble of half-finished projects, a list of almost-begun tasks. The toddler wins. Eventually we went down to the Point to put our feet in the sand. There aren’t many days left to be barefoot. The goldenrod was bright against the moody sky, the reeds tall, the mud flats strewn with green. Autumn beach.

(Post 252 of 365)

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