It’s just past noon on the summer solstice.

For days it’s been cool and raining.

Everything is just a bit damp.

While the temperature is climbing,

The hammock is calling.

I answer the call and lay down,

and I gaze upwards.

The sky is so blue it’s an impossible shade of purple.

The leaves are every shade of green,

From black where little light can reach,

Under the dense branches,

To chartreuse where the leaves shine against the sky,

Almost translucent where sunlight amicably tries to penetrate.

I think I’ll just lie here for a while.

After all, the warmth and beauty are mesmerizing.