On a day when the sun bathes the world in golden light, my parents and I journey to my grandmother's farm.
This pastoral haven is a tapestry of beauty, woven with a myriad of vibrant flowers, painting the landscape in hues of color.
‘Nay-nay,’ whispers the breeze, carrying the distant neighs of horses. Towering and robust, they contentedly munch on hay.
Lazy pigs wallow in their pen, a picture of sloth, where their days revolve around eating and dreaming.
Grandma imparts her wisdom: "Do not pluck the flowers; they are the farm's adorned beauty!" We are reminded to respect this sanctuary, to not sully it with litter, but to place it where it belongs—within the bin.
Today is a day of contentment and joy, shared not only by us but also by Grandma, her spirit mirrored in the farm's serene splendor.
