North Fork, Long Island. [July 2017]

Visual. Vast velvets of violet violently enveloping the vixen’s yellow dress. A lavender vacuum in full view.

Olfactory. Omnipresent pollen offer fragrant ounces of ambrosia. The nose obsequiously obeys.

Audio. Twin swallows alight and aestivate anew. Bees arrive at the assemblage abuzz.

Tactile. Purple tentacles twist and tickle along the trail. It’s tantalizing to touch.

Summer is sensually here.

Yellow dress is a must

She was terrified by the bees

“There are two kinds of visual memory: one when you skillfully recreate an image in the laboratory of your mind, with your eyes open…and the other when you instantly evoke, with shut eyes, on the dark innerside of your eyelids, the objective, absolutely optical replica of a beloved face, a little ghost in natural colors (and this is how I see Lolita).” -Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

“The girl raised her eyes to see who was passing by the window, and that casual glance was the beginning of a cataclysm of love that still had not ended half a century later.” -Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Love in the Time of Cholera