You are walking along a field on a summer afternoon. The grass was cut just a couple of days ago and lays there, spots of bright wild flowers here and there. It has been sunny the whole past week, and the wilting green is at the peak of giving out its aroma enhanced by sunshine and warmth. The air is thick with scents and insects buzzing. The sun is low, you have nowhere to hurry, your feet are dusty as you walk there thinking about nothing and everything. It's calm and melancholic, slow and pleasant. Life is good.
