“Green was the silence, wet was the light, the month of June trembled like a butterfly.” 🦋 — Pablo Neruda.

 “The beauty of that June day was almost staggering. After the wet spring, everything that could turn green had outdone itself in greenness and everything that could even dream of blooming or blossoming was in bloom and blossom. The sunlight was a benediction. The breezes were so caressingly soft and intimate on the skin as to be embarrassing.”

― Dan Simmons, Drood