I lay in the warm sun-kissed grass with the wind gently stirring, the sun glaring off my lashes. I shield my eyes with one hand as I watch the clouds dance across the sky. Soft puffs of cotton candy. If I stick my tongue out, surely I can taste them.Laying here, I have one ear turned to the sound of rustling leaves. A sure sign the deer are traveling through the pasture and a clear indicator the season is changing. Fall is right around the corner. The air is more languid, life has slowed down to a slumberous crawl. A fly buzzes lazily nearby and dogs bark in the distance.
There's not much definition to the clouds today. No fluffy bears or puffy dragons. A jet shoots by overhead leaving white streaks in its wake.I roll over on my belly, propping my chin in my hands. I'd hoped to recapture a childhood memory of calling out cloud shapes. Oh look! There's a monster! Over there! It's a clown! A boat! A kite! Whatever tickled my fanciful imagination, if I looked hard enough, it would be there.
I remember wonderful summer days doing this very same thing with my sons when they were little. Each of us excitedly vying to be the next to find a really cool cloud. Laying here makes me drowsy and I let my mind float back in time. I drift away...slowly....with a small smile curving my lips.
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