Sitting on my back porch I see the gentle spark. Starting small, it gains new height and intensity, becoming a burning light.
It quickly grows, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, but always moving. Its path is made behind; black, burned, and lifeless.
Fear escapes my conscious mind and quickly radiates outward, I look to my right and the field is a sea of color; green, red, then black.
Blocking the sun is a billowing haze of blue. Sounds of emergency, sounds of anxiousness, the silent scream of a dying field.
A quick spray and the flames are gone. Excitement dies, sounds disappear and I soon return to my chair relaxing and thinking about fire, death, and rebirth.
Once upon a time, there was an idiot neighbor fire starter.