Woolgathering

Late summer pondering with a curious eight-year-old.

A moth settled between two blades of grass. On either side of it, the green strips towered, creating a cave-like refuge from the gentle summer breeze. It was evening. The muted remains of the summer sun’s touch lingered throughout the garden and on the pavement that skirted it. More moths fluttered into the grass soon after, some choosing to skip…