Summer afternoon

This is the first time that I've tried this - writing spontaneously. Since I had some energy to use up before lunch, I went for a walk through the fields near my house, and this was the result:

I decided to go for a walk, not knowing to where or how far I wanted to go. Now I stand amid a field of delicate blue-green flowers, the waves formed by the breeze, reflecting the dappled summer sky. There are islands of dry, dusty wheat. I continue walking. Fountains of these blue flowers seem to be springing from the parched, cracked earth, the petals splashing on the ground. The dusty wheat shivers as my legs brush past, crickets reverberate all around. Butterflies and moths flutter upwards, flitting from plant to plant. The field is teeming with life, wild and busy and active. The air is warm and soft, the sky seems to be pressing down and the fields are waiting. A pair of seagulls over there almost seem to be talking, conversation interrupted by some brutal beating helicopter. That helicopter hovering makes me feel uneasy.

I'm walking along the edge of a field now, the blue flowers replaced by a more efficient, robust looking green crop. Some of the leaves are covered in rusty spots, curling and disintegrating like old metal sheeting, abandoned by the side of the field. In the midst of all this foliage stands one tiny red poppy, its petals drawn in as if cowering, yet it still gives me the impression of standing bravely up amidst all the green confusion, and the wasting earth. My route through the fields has been dictated by the hedgerows, and I sense it is time to head back, although I don't want to follow the same meandering route. Some of the cracks in the soil are huge, more like ravines; I could nearly fit my foot into one of them. As I walked back, I followed the retreating shadow of a cloud across a field. There's such a sense of space out here.

That's it, in its entirety and completely unchanged. May I also mention that I found a five-leafed clover on my way home!