A Field

The wind gently swept the tops of the flaxen wheat, stretching upon the rolling hills

seeming to expand into infinity and heaven as it swayed back in forth as the wind calmed

then regained its strength. It pushed everything in its path, creating a ripple along the landscape

as it moved from west to east across the land.

The green grass below that rested and called its home the top of the earth shone through the wheat

offering not only a soft blanket to the thin and coarse wheat stalks, but contrasting their own

natural colors against the other for the pleasure of any one lucky to be a witness. The blades 

of grass moved quickly in the wind with only the stalks of wheat protecting them as they absorbed

the brunt of the swift push of air.

The noon-day sun illuminated every speck of earth that could be seen, with only a few trees

along the hills offering any shade or relief from the sun when it became unrelenting.

They, too lay their black limbs across the sky to receive the breath of the wind as it passed

through their leaves and branches, gently stirring and rustling them, creating a sound

that echoed through the otherwise empty landscape.

Green leaves, flaxen wheat, the black limbs of the trees, were all set themselves

upon a cerulean background, purely the deepest blue imaginable, tainted only by small

white globs of clouds that passed along as a reminder that the wind was moving. The blue 

backdrop absorbed them all as it claimed itself the master of all, dwarfing any piece of earth

with its boundless reaches that confined it all from the expanse of space.

The wind continued to move them all. The blades of grass quivered violently, the wheat swayed,

itself rustling and singing a song with the leaves on the trees and together creating a harmony

of nature that played each time the wind came to move them. The song was different each day

but each knew their part with precision, creating the most calming and deafening beauty known.

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