Jason LocyComment

Jason LocyComment
These are the dog days, the gross days, of sticky air and wasp bites. “Daddy, it’s too hot,” days. Mosquito bonfire days, sweating in your Berks. Mosquito morning days, smacking your neck. But, these too are the water days. Pool dunking cannonball days, rain running screaming days, thunder in the house rumbling days, crack the sky lightening days, drenched in dew drops days, water gun sprinkler days, cuts on your feet puddle splashing days, waving ocean days, morning mountain mist days, whitewater raging days. These are the blazing days. The season of the sun, and I am pushing through, pushing through for the autumn run.

These are the dog days, the gross days, of sticky air and wasp bites. “Daddy, it’s too hot,” days. Mosquito bonfire days, sweating in your Berks. Mosquito morning days, smacking your neck. But, these too are the water days. Pool dunking cannonball days, rain running screaming days, thunder in the house rumbling days, crack the sky lightening days, drenched in dew drops days, water gun sprinkler days, cuts on your feet puddle splashing days, waving ocean days, morning mountain mist days, whitewater raging days. These are the blazing days. The season of the sun, and I am pushing through, pushing through for the autumn run.