Snapping beans.....

The smoke from the nearby fire drifted by, hardly annoying, just strong enough to flavor the breeze but not so overpowering to burn the eyes; a pleasant smoking, perhaps as an aging ham would feel in an old drafty smoke house. Smoke strong enough to add flavor but not so strong as to spoil the taste.
The pop of beans, beans being snapped by young hands and also by fingers that have weathered much more of life’s adventures, the snapping punctuated the silence. The soft scrapping of sand drew your eyes to the old sandbox, the home of countless castles, farms and secret lairs again being rebuilt into something extraordinary and new, unworried and ignorant of the farm cats that had also enjoyed the soft sand. Looking further on, the young chickens running loose through the yard, fat bodies evidence of their healthy diet supplemented with juicy bugs they happily clucked over. The chickens dodged the larger geese, masters of the yard that intimidated even the sly foxes, no surprise though, from birds that resemble dinosaurs in looks and actions. The afternoon is cool especially under the tree where I rest observing a glimpse of a quiet summer afternoon, both timeless and priceless, locked away in the heart forever.