Sweet Summer's Song
Close your eyes and listen to the rustle of leaves, the robin's singing and the music of the river. Rest in the branches of the ancient tree. Time has stopped and it's summer here forever.
As my children reach adolescence, I see them wistfully trying to hold onto the simplicity of childhood. I think we all still do. This boy is there, is the place where nothing matters but this summer's day. The tree is an ancient oak I saw in rural Yorkshire, England. The robin is an English robin.
As my children reach adolescence, I see them wistfully trying to hold onto the simplicity of childhood. I think we all still do. This boy is there, is the place where nothing matters but this summer's day. The tree is an ancient oak I saw in rural Yorkshire, England. The robin is an English robin.