The effortless leaf fluttered in the wind, its premature disconnection being the cause of sadness for the caterpillar.

The shadow of the old cottonwood had lengthened, and its roots tunneled ceaselessly in the obscured grass.

A bird summoned forth the air, and filtered her back out, having her carry the daily song.

The dog’s ear lifted slightly as the whir of a bike chain became audible for a short time.
Sleep rediscovered him swiftly.

The field slowly absorbed the flooded acequia water.
Ducks discovered a temporary haven.

She sat in the shade, the dog panting by her side. The soft light caressed her exposed skin in the loose summer dress. She squinted up at the blur of a bicyclist, smiling.

The earth swiveled slightly. The leaf had found the ground. The caterpillar had long been pecked by a cheery, singing bird. The shadow of the tree, now extending in the acequia grove, faded with the dying light. The dog now slept inside the old house, abandoning his domain at the fence corner. The ducks found new water, as the field sighed with relief. She walked her dog back to her yard, wishing the bicycle had not been moving quite so fast.