The sun disappears behind the ridge completely, taking the valley’s brightness with it. I laid motionless in the tall grassy field, filling myself with the night’s beginning splendor, my heart pumping within inches of the soft, moist soil. The grass dances in the breeze around me, ever so lightly touching my bare skin.
Breathing deeply I take in the scent of something beautiful, lavender. Groves of it live in the meadow, tangling with the tall grass.
The air is crisper now; a coolness floats through the valley. Cricket’s begin chirping. A million little voices light up the night. They seem to be everywhere.
A frog croaks in the distance.
The trees stand tall at the meadow’s edge. Their dark silhouettes gently moving with the wind, whispering to me their daytime secrets.
Just below their whispering a trickle of a creek can be heard. I imagine the water rushing around the pebbles and stones of the creek bed. It inhabits every space it can find for only seconds and moves on to its next journey.
I thrust my palm into the soil, feeling the power of the land. It soothes me and so tenderly holds me close.
I could lie here forever.