Against a slate blue nine in the morning late summer sky a waxing gibbous moon gently floats just above the roof tops and trees in this sleepy Brooklyn street. It's ghostly appearance bathed in the morning sun reaffirms the primordial power of nature. This supernatural power is blanketed, some would have you believe by coincidence, in a fluffy aureole throne of white gleaming clouds just beneath the moons curvature just when it turns dark so that phantom king moon is nestled in its chair. Both king and court gently moving to the west, crowning a perfect morning for us as we stroll purposely on our errands. And accompanying this phantom king an orchestra of cicadas rhythmically raise up their voices, the tempo about that of your heart, foreboding the coming summer heat of mid afternoon.
But for now, before the heat of August has had a chance to bake the street, while one can still feel a sensation of coolness from the ocean air breezing lightly over your neck and arms, positive thoughts rush to mind leaving you in an uplifting, tingling, and in a giddy mood. "Now if I can only find someone to share it with", I thought, as I high stepped it to through the streets, hopeful of a good day.
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