The bee flitted from blossom to blossom in an erratic pattern as my spirit revels in the height of the tall, fragrant, wheat colored grass. When laying within the fold of this huge beautiful field behind our house, looking at the pussy willow tree upside down, and the awesome blue cloudless sky, my thoughts wander.
The momentary escape mingles with reality and I turn it over quickly, out of my mind, thinking only of the pieces of milkweed dancing along in the background to the deep, neverending blue sky. Breaking off a piece of the tall grass and putting it into my mouth, I feel engulfed in peace. When I am here, I believe that I am loved more than anything imaginable.
An unexpected exhale, a relaxing. Taking in the fresh air, breathing in and asorbing the colors that suround me in every direction. I long to be, in this, my favorite place in all of my small world. There is no wrong, no looking over my shoulder, making a snow-like angel within the tall, wheat colored grass ... places like this are known by wild deer, not children. I am blessed to share such a teeny place in all of the universe.
In the distance I see shadows behind the kitchen window. Can I be seen. Am I ever truly alone?