Wide Open Spaces

It had rained during the night, not a lot, but enough that all was damp come sunrise. By this time what rain there was had moved on and now ribbons of warm, distant sunlight slithered like snakes across the earth. Most people come here in the spring, chasing endless pastures of wildflowers that dress the rolling hills in vivid yellows, blues, purples, reds and oranges. The blue flowers smell of root beer with each breeze that sways them. I however come here for the clouds that paint those same hills with ever changing light. Later into the day, once the clouds mostly cleared and the sun shown unabated, meadowlarks sang their beautiful songs accompanied by buzzing grasshoppers. I parked my car at a campground and began to explore the hills to the west. Here scruffy junipers dotted the hillsides. The wind now picked up and more damp weather blew in. Through the wind and misty air quails and ravens sang their wonderful songs while I sat beneath a larger juniper listening to the gusting wind whispering through its branches. youtu.be/iSLwiTHjehM