Right this moment I miss April and May. Not because I'm melting in the heat of the southern summer. I've got no complaints on that front except that I wish I had a pool in my backyard.
What I miss is awesome photographic opportunities like this. When I walk across the yard to check my mail the brown grass crunches under my feet. This doesn't bother me so much except that I really wish, when I look around, that there were a few more trees blossoming. I wish that the pathetic flower pots on my porch weren't filled with shriveled up brown plants. I suppose I could remedy that situation, but there's nothing I can do to replace the blooms that don't require any effort on my part, and those are the ones I miss the most. Not because they don't take any effort, but because they are far more beautiful and bountiful than my sad little planters. I miss the opportunities to capture the intricacies of God's creation. The crusty brown height of summer lacks that special something that comes with spring.
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