Bread & Butter

To be curled up under the sun on a mat made of jute while the light caresses my cheek as I drift away into a meadow where wind barely touches my skin but brushes past everything round. It is trying to paint a water color scape where the light is too bright for the eyes but welcomes you to look at it nonetheless; covering everything in a sheer yellow of butter that has been freshly poured over bread out of the oven, golden in its warmth as it melts into the earth as evening sets.