Just beyond the edge of the woods was a golden meadow. The waist high grass glistened in the late summer sun like the wings of dragon flies.

The heat of the day brought a sheen of dampness to my bronzed skin and the heady scent of the dry grass told me it was ready for haying. I could hear the clicking and sawing of crickets permeating the meadow.

As I walked through the silvery gold seed heads, swaying gently in the breeze, I felt the tickle of a sneeze in my nose. I rubbed it vigorously until the irritation passed. But I couldn’t help pinching my fingers over the prickly stiff clusters of seed, sliding

them upward, and watching the released seedheads drift in the wind, scattering to make

next year’s growth.

I always wandered through the meadow at summer’s end, recalling the happy, languorous days just past. This time of year, more so than in spring, reminds me of the cycles of life and the enthusiasms of my youth, before the decline of old age to come. I am still full of life, as is the summer sun and the abundance of life around me. The grass, the trees, the birds, dragonflies, crickets, all full of life and enjoying God’s bounty.