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Late season corn….
Early morning light.
A moment of magic.
The only words in my head were those of a song:
”You’ll remember me when the west wind moves upon the fields of barley.
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky when we walked in fields of gold.”
I stopped…only to listen.
To their quiet whispers…to their stories….to their secrets shared.
I made myself a promise:
I would never tell…I would never betray their trust in me.
A picture may paint a thousand words.
It also paints in silence.
That look.
That sweet…gentle…impish…almost shy - look.
Hello Handsome.
Where’ve you been all my life?