REALITY?: Mornings that Settle the Soul

I love the mornings after a summer rain.  Bluest sky washed of the marks of clouds.  Flowers vibrant, wet, lifting up their heads still crowned by sparkling sunshine caught in raindrops.  Grass is greener, leaves more broadly smiling, waving to each other across the yard.  The sharp clear chirrup of the cardinals comes piercing through the day like sounds of squeaky clean.  Earth no longer dusty brown but rich and deep mahogany.  The air is pure and fresh, and breathfuls penetrate the soul with magic peace.

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