Written by Sandy McCann.
I stepped outside my house and sat down on the steps. The evening late summer air smelled fresh and inviting. The sun was low in the sky and radiant colors streamed upward darting in and around the clouds.
I looked down and saw a small watermelon seed. It reminded me of eating that fresh juicy slice of watermelon last night. My brothers and I had a seed spiting contest. Being the youngest, mine did not go as far as theirs.
The soft summer breeze swirled around me as I made my way down the yard toward the corn field. On the bank I noticed something small, delicate, and purple. There were hundreds of tiny Violet flowers. I reached down and picked one, then another; soon I had a tiny bouquet that I would give to my grandmother. She loved our time together and would spend hours in imaginative play with me.
Suddenly, I heard a soft crackling sound coming from the corn field. I left my bouquet on the bank and walked through the carefully planted rows of corn. The stalks swayed softly with the summer breeze. I sat down in between two rows. I closed my eyes and listened to the breeze and the crackling sounds. I thought to myself that the corn was growing and stretching that is what made the sounds. I felt so at peace feeling the breeze on my skin and listening to the sounds of growth,life.
I heard my grandmother call. It was time to go back. I felt so free as I ran through the corn rows my long wavy hair flowing behind me. I picked up the tiny bouquet and ran into my grandmother’s arms.
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