For spacious skies
For Mason County land.
In the fields
And tanks so full
For hills of green
And coastal tall
We sow and reap
And eat and sleep
And give our thanks
Some call ‘em Black-Eyed Susans.
(Actually, we only have Brown-Eyed Susans in the Hill Country.)
Some call ‘em “those yeller flowers.”
Whatever they are, those golden waves are risin’ and swellin’ this season.
Our pastures overfloweth.
If this was coastal, we’d all be rich.
Cows graze knee deep in the flowers.
The calves downright hidden (along with the snakes).
Thanks to Spring rains.
And warming days.
As our world turns towards Summer.
Was but a week or so ago we had cool temps.
There goes Time.
Always changing its costume.
Always changing its part.
A new look.
A new phase.
A new season.
Or new reason.
Thunderstorms wielding power.
And hopefully bringing more rain.