The wind whips my hair into my eyes as it whips the grass in which I stand, barefoot. It is green and thick and it tickles my bare calves. It smells so fresh and clean I can taste it upon the back of my tongue, as heady a taste as any wine. I love it here. There is no one here but me and God, I smile as I talk to the wind, it whispers marvelous secrets back. I ask the chuckling brook where it thinks it is going, winding down, around and out of sight beyond the bend, too busy to stay and chatter with me today. Maybe some other time. It must hurry, calling sweet goodbyes over its shoulder.
And it chuckles on.
I bend down and sip from the strong clean banks. So very clear, I can see all of the tiny rocks that lie resting upon the bottom. It tastes sweet and cold like the mountain snow.
I am happy here.
The sun shines fierce upon my upturned face. I feel so coltish and giddy! I start to dance in the cool green grass, I jump and I whirl—I twist and turning, spin. I sing as I dance and loud voices echo mine.
I drop to the ground, tired for the moment by my childish antics. But I don’t care that they are childish. I know the angels are dancing with me.
I throw my head back and laugh, loud, and long.
Exhausted I lay back in the grass and watch the clouds cover the hot spring sun. then the rain begins to fall. I love the rain, so warm and beautiful. Each drop a prism. A tiny universe suspended in air before it hits and shatters into an hundred other miniscule universes. The rain washed my face with tender, loving hands, and then run down to soak the ground. A drink to grass, trees, and the wildflowers I love so much. The wind becomes stronger, the trees rustle their leaves angrily—they do not like to be pushed around. The rain falls harder and harder—a continuous sheet falling from the sky.
I leap up and cry out indignantly to the heavens. Thunder rumbles back. I laugh at the joke and I begin to dance again. Lighting crashes and flickers all around me. The sky likes to dance and sing too. Jealously the wind rips and rushes to and fro with hurricane ferocity as it yells at the clouds, telling them to go away. I laugh at the wind and so does the sky, I sing, and placated, the wind joins in.
As I sing rain falls in my mouth. So sweet and clean—like the stream. It fells me with energy and it seems I could dance forever.
Slowly, regretfully, the clouds pull the thunder away to grumble at the distant hills. The rain stays and dances a little while longer. But soon, it too, must leave.
Goodbye, It calls. Goodbye, I call.
I am left standing in the cool green grass as it tickles my calves. With the sun shining fierce upon my upturned face and the gentle wind whipping my hair. I breathe the fresh damp air and once more call goodbye as I roll out of bed and hit my alarm clock. Leaving the most beautiful place I know.