• Lush fields of golden wheat, like hay, blew in the warm summer breeze. The sun beat down in the humid and dusty air. Flies swarmed everywhere, looking for something to pester. There was a nearby river, with flowing waters clear as crystals, and blue as the sky. Groves of trees clustered by the bank. Bushes, shrubs, and natural debris rustled.
    In the middle of the field, there was something odd, out-of-the-ordinary. There, a red rose was blossoming. The petals were, surprisingly, strewn with sticky dew, like grass fresh in the morning of the day. The stem was thick and green, and the thorns stuck out.
    Why was the rose there? The wind picked the rose seed and landed it into the soil. There, it started to bloom and blossom and was tendered by crisp sunlight and rainfall.