Lush with last night’s thunderstorms this Independence Day hangs heavy with dark clouds and windless sound broken by the joyful bugling of the catbird, chickadee and cardinal. As if the booming of the guns has won their free flight crossings of the yard.
I think today of Saturday and six old soldiers standing graveside at attention and all those marching men who went before them. There was a reason; there was a very precious reward some lucky ones of us born in this land will share.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology