thelesbianlifestyle.com

It’s her. Her in her dusty, faded jeans. Her with the hair that goes white-blond-silver the first time she steps out into the spring sunshine. Her with the muscle shirt and the body-builder arms, and sweat running down the sides of her neck with the paint brush in her hand or winding up the hose, or pulling weeds or, well you get the idea.

The way she cocks one hip when she’s admiring her garden handiwork, the way her blue eyes are so vivid against her tanned cheeks.

She’s a 55 year old farm girl, my wife, and every time she sets her feet on Mother Earth she seems to get younger and more energetic.

I’m not a summer person, but I could bask in HER heat forever.

GG