My Disappearing Valley
The sun surmounted the pale blue mountains in the east, casting shadows on the dried, blond brush. They merged as one, blinding and emmense. Rising higher, the sun's glare reflected off the grasses' dew which faded into the warming air. Awaiting its morning meal, a hawk cried and circled above. The day crawled slowly by in the unyeilding heat; not even the heavy wind, which visibly whipped through the air and whistled loudly through the trees, brought relief. A snake bathed in happy warmth beneath a dancing weeping willow. Covering everything in thin layers, light brown dust blew loosely over the ground. Transparent steam rolled off the pavement, and a lizard scampered sideways along a wooden fence not to burn his feet. An ocean of brush cascaded along the low hills, swishing a lullaby more soothing than the sea. Strutting beneath the trees, a peacock fanned his tail and called despairingly into the sky. Now in the west, the lazily setting sun allowed the earth to cool and life to emerge. A wall of mosquitos swelled up from the creek bed menacingly. Black barbed wire stretched endlessly, breaking the fields but not stopping the cows that lowed lazily as they walked through a ditch blow it. As the sky turned chartreuse, the prairie beamed goldenrod. One lone oak tree, half starved by the summer drought and black against the remote mountains and still blue sky, stood regally amongst the golden fields that gently flowed around it. The opposite horizon turned pink and orange as the sun disappeared behind the trees. Shimmering, the stars gradually snapped into place, dotting the night sky with crystal security. The coyotes howled and moaned tunelessly in the distance, only faintly heard above the cricket orchestra that marked the beginning of a bustling prarie night.