The white hot sun is lowering itself in the sky as I aimlessly float on the pool. I look up at the expanse of that deep in the heart of Texas blue sky, bleached pale by the sun’s scorching stare.
The wisps of clouds look like runaway stray hairs.
As if God was rearranging it with His fingers. I bask in the goodness He gives – the cool water, the trees-those crape myrtles that flourish and thrive in the heat. Their blooms full-tilt in your face. White, pale pink, hot pink, lavender and my favorite, the deep red ones all painted from God’s palette. The doves calling to each other as they fly around trying to cool their wings, the squirrels chasing each other up the tree trunks.