Flint Hills Kansas

Summer’s whisper kissed Jenny Mae’s cheek as the morning breeze danced across the field, caressing wild flowers along its way. Jenny sat on a large rock spreading her summer dress across the weathered stone. She lifted her face, allowing the warm sun to bless her. Hummingbirds darted from flower to flower, the crimson of their feathers in harmony with a Kansas sunset.

           She could feel the pull on her back to turn, but hesitated. Instead, she knelt in the prairie grass gathering yellow, blue and orange brilliance in her arms. She heard the bark of a prairie dog and admired the grace of a red tailed hawk as he landed on the old rock wall surrounding the field. Hours before, the land was ravaged by tornados, yet now peace and serenity filled the air bringing pure white clouds set on a canvas of dark blue.

          Jenny stood as her husband, Luke, walked to the edge of the field. She went to him, the hem of her dress brushing the tops of prairie grass, sending up scents of lavender. She inhaled deeply, wanting always to remember.

          Jenny traced her finger across Luke’s set jaw, then rested her hand in his. The field that once held their home lay empty. Crows filled the old oak that somehow survived, sending out loud cries that sent shivers up Jenny’s spine.  She slipped her arm through Luke’s as they turned their backs to the field, walking quickly away.

           Before getting into the truck, Jenny stood on tiptoe and kissed her husbands cheek, “I hear it’s always sunny in California.”