Summer evenings. What could be better? The warmth of the sinking sun dyed everything with a fiery glow. The lake lay still to admire the beauty of the sunset, reflecting the amber light of the sky. Swaying gently in the southward breeze, the golden wheat crop began to dance in unison as the air glided over their heads, creating a gentle and calming sound in the distance.
I was sat upon the old swing my father had built when I was a child. It shared a hill with our house and overlooked the vast land around us. The lake, the crops and even the woodland could be seen from here. The quiet creak of the oak which held up the swing couldn't distract me from the canvas painting of the sky. As I tilted my head back, the colours blended and changed as night began to descend. Yellow had crept below the horizon as it was followed by orange. Red waited patiently as pink and violet pushed each other. Looking directly up, I could see blue observing the other colours, with a sparkle upon its face. Black was peering behind blue, making sure when the time was right to take the stage. It was a performance in itself.
In this moment, I had no cares. No worries. Nothing. I had comfort. Calmness. Everything.
It didn't make sense. But it didn't have to. I wanted to enjoy this moment as much as I could. Before it left.
This is my world.
