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Veronique de Turenne

The last wildflower of summer

It was 82 degrees as we walked on the bluff, a slight breeze drying things out, sending scent molecules tumbling.

The brine of the sea:

point dume in the distance

A flinty, mineral smell where, in bone-dry earth, a wildflower made its last stand:

last wildflower of summer

And the tiny Labrador waiting, waiting, ever and again waiting for someone to please throw the ball.


Next entry: Hooray for the LA River!

More by Veronique de Turenne:
Good night, 2016
Congratulations Lidia and Dan!
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Sunset light

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