As the now fades.

The electric smell of the train yard slowly fading as I enter the grove.
It is lee here and the sun makes the air vibrate with the anticipation of early summer.
In a glade there are the ruins of an old stone house.
Some kids (I guess) have gone through the trouble of dragging an old, massive wooden park-bench here.The modern smoothness of the bench looks sharp and oddly offensive against the old jagged stone foundation.

Songs of a summer rain

The rain falls from a steel grey sky steaming as it hits the still warm ground.
Her steps get slightly hobbled as the wet dress cling to her legs.
She runs with her arms crossed over her chest slightly shivering.
Goosebumps visible on her fair skin.

The bluebeatle

A Bluebeatle sitting on a fallen tree.
Looking intently up at me its slender silver wings tucked in under the iron carapace,
the chromium eyes seemingly pleading for death.