27 July 2007

I love...

the sound fresh, crisp green beans make when they snap,     
the giggle of laughter on the gentle summer breeze,   
the smell of cool, juicy, red watermelon on a balmy afternoon,                                                                            
blue skies with fluffy, white marshmallow clouds,  
daydreaming in the grass and smelling a near-by hay field,            
the whir of a tractor as it harvests the hay,
the trickling sound a river makes as it gently flows past,
small towns with little white churches with tall, majestic steeples,
old schoolhouses that smell of books and mildew,
singing and sweating at an old-fashioned tent revival,
walking along a dusty, dirt road to nowhere in particular,
swinging from a tree branch,
fishing on a lazy afternoon,  
fields sprinkled with bales of hay,
Amish buggies clip-clopping down a lane,
parades with marching bands and 4-H clubs,
pretty, yellow black-eyed susans,
diving into a pool right before sunset,
dashing through a sprinkler mid-afternoon,
lying on a blanket and looking at the stars twinkling in the night,
sitting around a campfire, toasting gooey marshmallows and singing camp songs,
telling old stories that everyone has heard,
the sound my flute makes when I play into the wind,
the serious look on the field commander's face as the marching band passes by,
local festivals with country crafts and yummy treats,
the smell of roasted corn,
bluegrass bands,
the twang of a dulcimer,

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