Late Summer Dancers

d3dd3-coneflowers031

“There is no place like a meadow to walk your soul to peace.”

c. e. hollis

Under the blue of an Oklahoma sky, I walk in the overgrown grasses and the wildflowers. Here I find joy in the colors of the earth and in the sound of wind rustling the grass mixed with bird and insect music.

Here my soul finds rest.

Here my heart can renew.

Here my spirit can praise the creator and pray.

Here the late summer dancers, the coneflowers, twirl like ballerinas in pink and white tutus. I try hard not to crush a single flower––but touch them all.

A meadowlark on a old wooden fencepost sings to the day.

I sing too.

Butterflies flutter from flower to flower. Bumblebees buzz and bumble.

Grasshoppers spring out of my path.

 The satin blue sky overheard constantly changes as cotton clouds form and move in the wind.

No, there is no place like a meadow to walk your soul to peace.

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