Suddenly I feel ready to write about this day.
I don’t recall a single care
Just greenery and humid air
I paused on the side of the dirt road. The sun was going down over green crops and the air was in passage from the waves of a hot July day to the coolness of a summer night.
Home was still several hours away, but I had a camera and the moment in my midst. I felt liberated, freedom and revival from the summer I’d endured, and was ready to put past my mind.
The wind was perfect and the boisterous air caught the fabric of my red dress. I wore no makeup and pulled back my stringy curls into a haphazard bunch, a dozen strands falling into the breeze. The day was so glorious to me, so impeccable that even in the midst of my slatternly being, I felt beautiful.
I set the camera on the hood of my car, pressed down the shutter and ran. Take two, and take three, take twenty-seven, the dust picked up as my sandals pummeled the gravel. I moved into tall fields where grains brushed against my bare legs. The sun continued its ebb to the horizon line as it saturated the sweeping grass in a gradient of light.
The moment was detained a half hour later, as I turned the vehicle off the grit to rejoin a thoroughfare spanning toward home. The sun was going down over green crops boundless in existence, forward-looking stems swaying restful in a July sundown. Everything was going to be just fine.
Body, earth, mind; all was calm.
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