It was once green.
The grass I mean.
Today it’s just brown and dry.
An uncomfortable feeling it is, sitting on the dry and brittle pieces.
I stare at the ground.
There’s barks, pines, sticks and an ant carrying another smaller ant between its clenched jaws.
Is it a fallen comrade or merely, just another victim of the bigger being?
I see a small purple flower.
It’s bright color more noticeable against the dull brown background.
A symbol that there is still strength, even at life’s bleakest moments perhaps?
I don’t know.
I’m just making things up as I go.
I’m looking into the baby blue sky that has the absence of clouds.
Endless blue today.
Such is the beauty of Summer.
A honey bee lands on my shoe for a split second, before buzzing away.
I just stay still.
I wanted its company, but it didn’t want mine.
Must be a busy and difficult day looking for nectar on dry land.
The wind ruffles the tree I’m sitting under.
I need not look up to see it.
The shadow speaks for itself.
The shadows softly swaying from side to side.
Pieces of dandelions fly past me.
If only I could join its journey to the next destination.
But here I am.
Sitting under a tree.
Noticing the abundant patches of daisies I once picked, all gone.
Only scatters of it remains.
If only the grass was green and lush.
I’d curl up into a ball and take a nap.