The Valley

As I recline on the hill,

Resting between the pines,

The Valley yawns before me.

Looking eastward beyond the mountains,

Rays of sunlight are cresting the landscape.

Farmers in the dusty fields hard at work,

Discover the freshly turned land.

Corn shocks stand vertically among the meadows.

Frosted maple trees line the roads.

Birds begin to sing the morning song,

While horses trot along with buggies.

The Valley has awoken.