Saturday, August 6, 2011

The birds in the trees and the grass in the breeze

      The best writers, in my opinion, are the people who describe life in eloquent, yet sometimes blunt terms, but shed light on simple details. The good, the bad, the ups, the downs-- every little details given notice. The most intriguing part of this type of writing is the fact that situations are brought to life. At times, you may have to use your imagination, but, usually, the reader is drawn into the writers world. Good writers are the writers that make you contemplate small happy hings.

     I'm sitting next to a tree with quite a few critters crawling on it. There is one white and black stripped caterpillar inching his way up the tree. His movement is a continuous wave or circle, almost a constant hiccup, from his bum to his chest. Mr. Bumble Bee has been pollinating little purple flowers surrounding the Maple tree that the caterpillar was climbing. The horses 300 yards away have been trying to give someone a piece of their minds by neighing in between a couple of bites of grass. The cows just behind me have been giving-what-for-mooing. Who knows? Maybe the horses and the cows are conversing among themselves. :)

     Dark grey clouds were scattered across the sky, now, puffy white clouds hang on a blue back drop. Through the clouds, the bright yellow sun shines down as a spotlight to the green grass, with a diverse flower audience. At the closing of this lovely show, the crickets express a joyous encore, "Here, here, what a day!" Although, there is always at least one disturbance. Here it's route 26. The constant traffic flow is well, consistent day and night. Compact cars, SUV's, trucks, 18 wheelers, we have it all. It is not exactly the most desired lullaby. Why must people always go, go, go,?

Stop.

Go to bed.

Chill.

That's what I'd like to them.

~We are the aroma of Christ~

     

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