Past glows.

She is sitting outside on her back porch, drinking her coffee. In quiet she listens to the birds calling to the right, the busy highway to her north and a few dogs barking to the left, in the neighbors yard. Spring is soon to roll in, in the silence they all can hear the rumble of clouds passing, carrying blooms of flowers and sunglow showers of the new season. All around everything listens and waits. To renew from the past chill and want for warmth.
Azaleas are in bloom, the biggest bushes in the town, she grew up with them her whole life. She sees some have bloomed, low on the bush, the ground warm below. The azalea bushes are not trimmed, but overgrown with sprouts of honeysuckle and other numerous foliage. But when the vivid azalea bloom, it’s a full force of color.
In noticing these fresh blossoms she remembers a time, place in memory. She had photographed these flowers once in her life and won an award for the pictures. She was young, but still had a vision, an eye for all that’s beautiful.
The beauty is she had grown with them her entire life, knowing their life. The nature of the flower and herself. It was captured in the pictures.
She wonders on this, now in the present, as the sun is exposed through the trees and the nature in the distance quiets and whispers, ” sun is here, glowing, helping colors come to life, and while it’s here we all renew, remembering our pasts are true.”