I love billowy clouds that never cease,
borne upon a wind smelling of sweet country air,
the freshness of openness is unmistakeable
with the sounds of the city far away
unheard, unheeded, unneeded.

I love the sound of hawks catching the
currents of the air, sounding their
delight at freedom and I cannot help but
feel much the same; feeling as if I was
flying as well...high above the corn field
and woods below.

I love walking through the corn field
with that fresh smell washing over me
like rain; each step I take causing the
grasshoppers to leap in unison off
the path, creating a wave of jumping
insects before me.

I love exploring through the woods,
being undersized by great pines and
oaks and cedar trees, following a path
of underbrush and dead leaves, seeing
the red squirrels jump from tree to tree
and listen to the chirping of sparrows
and finches as they hop joyfully about.

At dusk, I watch the does gathering in
yonder field, grazing upon grass and deer
apples. I smile at the tiny speckled
fawns staying close to their mother, still
wobbling on legs they are yet unfamiliar
with; startled at every tiny movement,
every tiny sound.

And the sunrise is inspiring, peaking
above the treetops like an unsure child,
slowly spreading it's rays upon the
corn fields and gardens, drying the dew
upon the grass and plants and waking
every bird, insect and creature. Here I
truly feel free, where the breeze blows the
sweet smelling country wind through
my hair.