The wind shredded the clouds late last evening, leaving the setting sun to send streaks of color through the spaces in the racing cirrus.

The farm and the farm yard were quiet, but in a way of gratitude; from life giving water, and for the burst of sunshine coming from the descending sun.

Walking outside I breathed deeply…taking in big draughts of fresh, wet air.  The sun, the leaving storm, the sweet smell of green plants, the thick odor of fresh turned earth; all interlaced with the smell of the storm; a subtle hint of lingering ozone.

Here I stood in all the elements of power, and goodness, and beauty.

Twilight was rising from farm to the plateau, then onto the canyons in the west. Night started swallowing the ground, but still Boomer and I stayed; walking along the muddy farm roads watching the earth join the brilliance of the evening sky!

From my world to your heart,

Linda