Spilt Wine

I took Gracie back to the oak tree last night. This time, we went a lot earlier in the evening. The Sun had just started its descend in the west, giving way for the moon that would be arriving for his evening shift above the valley floor. The sky was a much different picture last night compared to the scorched red sky from the night before. The sky was a clear baby blue, with mountain thunderstorm clouds broken up and spread across the sky. You could see the arch of the sky formed by the earths round atmosphere, making it look as if the highest point of the sky was right above your head. We stood in the shade of the tree, feeling the breeze that was blowing eastward. Gracie’s hair danced in the breeze as I stood there holding her, not saying anything, and looking towards the west. Not much is said during these evening walks, but I feel that my love for her is clearly communicated. I want to show her so much and teach her everything I have learned. Right now I am content with showing her the oak tree and the valley sunsets.