Warm sun bakes my hands and face
The fragrance of country foliage and soil reaches my nose
Small insects and prickly grass brush my skin
The sound of a chirping cricket touches my consciousness
The twittering of birds fills the air with wonder
The coolness of earth and the heat of air mix and intertwine
I watch the beauty of fluttering leaves in the wind
My eyes communicate the roughness of stone to my fingertips
Cars hum down a mountain road
The feathery tips of the grass sway gently in the cool breeze
The clouds meander past at their own pace
I can almost taste the scent of amber cream on my hands and arms
Old wood tells a tale of times past and days gone by
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