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Description
They all said that it didn\'t lead anywhere. I disagreed.

A pale shimmer of light glinted over the rough, black surface o the smoldering road. A high sun above cast an angry white light down on the tall, still prairies grasses. Still.

It had been just a week since the horrible storm swept through the wilderness. Screaming winds, beating rains, and thunderous roars had fled from the ominous black clouds. THe ground quickly turned to mud as the water and ice were pelted down to earth as if individually thrown by hundreds of powerful giants.

Miraculously, after many terrible days, the storm moved on. It took weeks for the plants to grow back, and the prairie had been a dismal life of grey, brown, grey, brown...

Suddenly, millions of flowers sprang up. \"Little gifts from God,\" Tom had fondly called them. Every day, if it was sunny and warm, I would get out my paint box and canvas and go to the cool, shady spot under the last remaining tree in the field. Asthe leafy boughs gently swayed above my bent head, I would depit single flowers, fields, and even sections of the blank road using my oils and brushes. In the speckled light, I created masterpieces.