This tree knows something I’m not aware of…

Not as impressive as it ought to be... ah, well...

Not as impressive as it ought to be… ah, well…

The dry season is still at its cusp, but there are subtle changes in the air telling me that this might not last for too long. First of all, there are gray clouds gathering on the horizon. Unfortunately, they are just passing over my land without releasing the anxiously awaited rain that yet refuses to fall. The other day, a loud crack of lightning was heard.Second, the air down here is thick, pregnant with humidity as every living vegetable being gasps for relief, heavily contributing with its share to the atmosphere’s moisture.

Things are-a-changing…

But the most sure-fire signal that the draught is about to end is a lone araguaney tree that grows near the end of my backyards. It’s the National Tree of this stinkhole that calls itself a ‘country’ (*drips sarcasm that rivals the acid blood of the creature of all those ‘Alien’ movies*) and it only blooms when the dry season is about to be over.

It’s a thing of fleeting beauty and its flowers bloom almost overnight, only lasting from 24 to 48 hours before they wilt. In most cases, the fallen flowers form a veritable yellow carpet around the base of the tree. This yellow color is so intense and bright that sometimes you have to look away from it, especially when the sun hits it directly.

It’s quite regrettable that my araguaney tree is sitting on such a depleted soil (it’s basically just hygroscopic clay) that it lacks the necessary nutrients to create the necessary thickness to have my own memorable flower carpet. All I get is a rather thinly spread layer, which is just a terrible travesty of what could have been if things were otherwise.

Alas, I have to be satisfied with it. Also, I regret the camera of my cellular phone isn’t as versatile as I wish it was, so you’ll have to go by with the poor depiction I included in this post. Ah, welladay. It’s a beautiful thing, anyway, and I wanted to share with you this short-lived moment.

P.S. As the time of this writing, a light drizzle has started to fall.

Keep your fingers crossed.

Edwin Stark

Signing Off

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