Wednesday, June 23, 2010
The tang of the freshly cut lawn drifted through the summer air.
Daddy’s grass cutter as it was called back then engraved neat little diagonal contours through the jade patches.
Sarah was born in the 50’s at the far end of the Baby Boom. In a time where parents didn’t worry as much about their children as they do today. It really was a simpler time for all.
Situated against her favorite tree Sarah was veiled from the rest of the world.
The mature weeping willow with its gently swaying tresses kept her perfectly concealed.
And that was what she treasured.
Being a quiet creative person, she thrived by her self. No silly questions to answer,
no prying eyes and no sharing her Precious items!
One of which she now held close to her heart.
Someone might break it by dropping it or throwing it across the room as her older brother
often threatened to do. If she didn’t stop “borrowing” his brown jeans.
Sarah forgot all her worries as she stretched out beneath her shelter and viewed the sky.
It was definitely magic she knew that much.
How else could she see so many colors?
With a flick of her wrist, the clouds seemed to part and rainbows of swirling color parade before her vary eyes. It was almost as if she controlled the crimsons, aquamarines and tangerines that mirrored in her sight.
She loved the complex colors and shapes appearing and disappearing.
It was her own private dream world where everything had dimension, color and composition.
Everything was perfect for Sarah today, under the shade of the old weeping willow.