[Ash]: 102.Contests.Drabbles.April 2008

Sweet sounds, they move from ear to ear. The buzzing of the bees in their combs, the cries of a newborn black bird scared and hungry, the wind blowing through the wheat. I take all of it in, even the nourishing Sun which beats down upon us all. My flowing white skirts brushes against the stalks of wheat, which have grown ever so rapidly. The earth is a new with wonder.

Clouds cover over head and the breeze brings a cool sprinkle to the land. I look up and smile as the drops grace my face with every wet kiss.

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100 words.