Sam lay in the grass, hands outstretched.
Touching every individual blade with his fingers, noticing just how delicate
they are. He compared them to himself. He gazed into the night sky, watching
the stars twinkle and blink, always hoping he would see a shooting star to wish
upon. Yet no matter how many times Sam walked through the endless fields to
gaze at the stars, he always looked up in wonder. As if it was the very first
time. This was his escape from reality. Long walks with no destination in mind,
all he needed to feel at ease are a soft patch of grass, and a cool breeze
through the night. The day’s events that caused him heartache ceased to matter.
For when his eyes became locked onto the bright night sky, all his troubles
floated away. Suddenly feeling small wasn’t a concern for once. The sweet sound
of rustling grass and the faint noise of crickets filled his ears. His eyes
began to droop as he soaked in the beauty of what he saw and heard around him.
The world was beautiful in his eyes, not a single thing was ugly, just
overlooked by the average person. But the most beautiful place to him of all
was the field. It was an ever changing plane. Every day, every week, and every
season, there was something new to experience, something beautiful to find, and
somewhere soft to sleep.
Sam rarely slept at home even on the worst nights, the pouring rain being one of his favourites. He would head out into the damp field, lifting his feet higher than usual because of the way the tall blades of grass would stick together making walking more difficult. Never the less Sam would trudge onwards knowing that soon he would be safe under the many boughs of the oak tree at the back of the field. It was a long walk. But it was well worth it for shade in the hot summer days or cover from the rain. He breathed the rain. The sound, the smell, the feeling of the rain upon his face and skin compelled him to smile. The sound of thunder in the distance was like music to his ears, he found joy in how the clouds were feeding, and hydrating the thirsty earth. So the grass could grow tall and soft to give him a comfortable bed, and to be strong, unlike him. There was an overwhelming sense of uncertainty in Sam’s life. He was longing for purpose, and a reason to be placed on this earth, other than to enjoy it.
Home was never the same after the passing of his father. Sam was very young, but still remembered almost every detail of his father. Sometimes when he lay in the field late at night, when the wind wasn’t blowing, and the crickets were not chirping, he would hear his voice. Never being able to tell exactly what was being said, but Sam knew in his heart it was his father. He always wished he could have been there for him. Even for a few extra years. This was one of those occasions that Sam would desperately scour the sky looking for a shooting star. In his short 18 years of life, Sam had only ever seen one shooting star, but he was so amazed by the sheer beauty of it, he forgot to make a wish. He always regretted it, but in a way it was worth it to see something so wonderful cascade itself through the night sky. Sam’s mother never mentioned his father, and Sam never brought it up out of respect for his mother. Although, there were days where Sam would watch his mother look out the back window, staring with a deep emptiness into the field he loved so dearly. And he could tell, she could hear him too.
Sam rarely slept at home even on the worst nights, the pouring rain being one of his favourites. He would head out into the damp field, lifting his feet higher than usual because of the way the tall blades of grass would stick together making walking more difficult. Never the less Sam would trudge onwards knowing that soon he would be safe under the many boughs of the oak tree at the back of the field. It was a long walk. But it was well worth it for shade in the hot summer days or cover from the rain. He breathed the rain. The sound, the smell, the feeling of the rain upon his face and skin compelled him to smile. The sound of thunder in the distance was like music to his ears, he found joy in how the clouds were feeding, and hydrating the thirsty earth. So the grass could grow tall and soft to give him a comfortable bed, and to be strong, unlike him. There was an overwhelming sense of uncertainty in Sam’s life. He was longing for purpose, and a reason to be placed on this earth, other than to enjoy it.
Home was never the same after the passing of his father. Sam was very young, but still remembered almost every detail of his father. Sometimes when he lay in the field late at night, when the wind wasn’t blowing, and the crickets were not chirping, he would hear his voice. Never being able to tell exactly what was being said, but Sam knew in his heart it was his father. He always wished he could have been there for him. Even for a few extra years. This was one of those occasions that Sam would desperately scour the sky looking for a shooting star. In his short 18 years of life, Sam had only ever seen one shooting star, but he was so amazed by the sheer beauty of it, he forgot to make a wish. He always regretted it, but in a way it was worth it to see something so wonderful cascade itself through the night sky. Sam’s mother never mentioned his father, and Sam never brought it up out of respect for his mother. Although, there were days where Sam would watch his mother look out the back window, staring with a deep emptiness into the field he loved so dearly. And he could tell, she could hear him too.
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