This is for my dream of writing and being published, with a dash of reading, life, being a parent, and all of my animals.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Hunting
Beneath my back the ground is cool, even through my many layers of clothes. Winter crop is smothered beneath my body. I can feel every ridge and valley of the rows. Above me the sky is a soft, velvety black. The moon is just past waxing crescent. Stars sprinkle across the sky like fairy dust. My eyes wander the sky and along the edge of my vision I can see the top of the tree line edging the field I lie in. Topping the trees, most of the spindly limbs that reach for the moon are bare of leaves. I turn my head and see next to me others resting along side, waiting for the call. Once more I gaze upwards, ever in awe of the beauty. In the distance the hounds bay; the call has been heard. We rise, family and friends, from the cold ground and begin trekking towards the call.
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