The Kid

The vivid memory of the Nebraska plains never leaves me. I can return to this place at any moment. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. My lungs are filled with the clean and pure air, a welcome change from the thick hazy air of the outside world. I am alone with only my thoughts and emotions to keep me company. The summer breeze, warm upon my face is filled with the sweet smell of the tall billowing grass.

Soft green hills surround me. I am not certain where they begin or where they end. Far into the distance I can see another farmhouse. Only an occasional windmill disrupts the scenery.

Clusters of bright yellow sunflowers are growing amidst the green prairie grass. I pick a sunflower and take pleasure in its sweet fragrance. I pull each soft petal off and toss it into the wind. Puffs of white cotton from a cottonwood tree float slowly past me.

As I walk, the thick blades of green prairie grass tickle my legs. Huge brown grasshoppers jump left and right to escape my path. Except for the occasional chirping of a meadowlark, it is so quiet I feel as though the world exists only here and I am the only person allowed to witness this beautiful portrait of nature.

Minutes turn into hours and the sun begins to sink below the horizon. The sky is splashed with yellow, gold and orange. Crickets