The flat grey sky spoke of the possibility of rain. Undulating fields of grain reached
upward waiting for the life giving moisture to descend. The landscape is still,
waiting.
Insects filled the air with their rasping buzz as I pass
through the tall grass, seeking to finish their tasks before the approaching
rain drives them away. A momentary
break in the blanket of clouds sent a beam of sunlight earthward to shimmer on
the stand of trees in the distance.
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