A single spider strand shimmering in the sun.
The chip-chip-chip of a bird hidden somewhere in the shade of the woods.
The soft thwack of a golf ball, a distant fore.
Earthworm corpses: pale and bloated in the bottom of the pool, dark and desiccated on the hot stone.
The summer breeze rustling in twin trees, leaves glimmering silvery green.
Tiny white butterflies flitting in the purple salvia and blue larkspur.
Perfume of pink roses.
The buzz and hum of bumblebees.
Warm sun on my bare shoulders, teasing out the freckles.