The smaller
streets and boulevards are not bad though they are crowded. Hydrants and
persons and little birds and small white or light brown doggies. Other things.
Other ways. If we go out to the more long and barren way there are fields on
the sides and different things can be seen. There was right there three horses representing
the colors of white, brown, and black and they grazed under the puff-clouds and
the deep blue sky. Going into some large pathways it could be seen that
everything had become green and we follow a trodden path that is somewhat of a
different color, perhaps it has gotten a bit yellow or flaxen for the feet that
have walked over it. Big black birds traverse in the distance. Something caws
and yells from the far away farmer’s field. A light breeze announces itself for
a time, and we go past the old wild birch and look out towards the forest entry
across the way. There are not many souls around, hardly any in fact. The dogs
run, play; seem to dance in their own way through the little pathways up by the
still-new pines. Then, race and race across the long laid out summit with some
wild wheat-stalk-like bushes. There are lots of sights in fact,- and the big
road back feels a bit like a causeway as the world spreads out on both sides
and we go back on our way…
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