100 Words on Grace - Childhood
There were acres and acres of land on Heather’s farm. We explored every inch of it that summer. We imagined ourselves as wild horses and ran with the real ones through the pastures and over the soft ground of the woods. Our long hair flew out behind us.
We ran with the lust of children while the sun pressed down on our heads. We ran for the pure joy of feeling our bodies working…bodies that were still new to us. There was nothing in the world but that moment …our awkward long limbs moving us with grace over the land.
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wild horses–running free…
I’m liking reading you creations and memories.. Also learning what a night owl you are… Keep up the good work!
–John B
dragonfly, we sure thought we were….
John, lately a night owl…yes. Have always been a bit of an insomniac but lately, more so. Glad you’re enjoying some of my writings.