Or Maybe, It Was I

It was June. Endless fields of grass stretched out in front of me.

The green of the grass was beautiful and vivid after the spring rains.

The blades danced in the gentle wind as they reached up in supplication to the setting sun, singing thanks for the warmth of the day.

As I walked through the field, it seemed to me that the grass was happy.

Or maybe, it was I who was happy.

Carpe Diem,

Jack