One Summer Day

Late in May, the sun rises quite early. By 5:55 AM, it’s already a bright red orange ball hovering over the young wheat field. As I stepped on the break pedal bringing my car to a halt at the stop sign, I felt in awe of the picturesque morning being painted ahead.

Was I blinded by the sunlight or awakened by the beautiful scenery?
Isn’t it strange that we rarely stop and see?

summer'07