Sitting at the traffic light steaming about something inconsequential, the wind gusted, the sky grey and ominous as a storm was brewing. It looked like snow I thought to myself. But since it was late summer the crepe myrtle was still in bloom and as the wind raged, the pink petals from the crepe myrtle swirled around my car like a pink snow storm. The surreal thought of pink snow lifted my soul in wonder and delight as I imagined a field of pink ankle deep and fragrantly sweet as I lay back and did the snow angel thing. The pink petals sticking to my clothes and hair their soft touch caressing my arms and back. Drifting off into the daydream I missed the light as people calmly pulled around my dreamy face, afraid to wake me from my day sleep. Fully awake I watched the pink snow as I patiently waited the next change of the light, my heart light and airy.
©The autobiography of Mr. Perfect, 2017