On the way up the hill the dogs played in the long green gold swaying grass. It seemed that the sky had come to earth and bitten pieces from it.
We walked together and close, tails twined.
The gray sky made the fields grow emerald bright, made ginger fur shine like fire. In the green lane home the grass and bracken bent almost to tunnel the path. The lane held the air from another day, a warmer day, scented with summer smells. Beautiful.
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