Remembering Oklahoma

Cold wind, gray sky, the dance of gold grasses practicing the heavens' choreography...
Trees, grow leaning, shake free their leaves gilded in the colors of fire.
They will crunch underfoot on red dirt with the sweet smell of autumn - if you can catch them with your feet as they scurry. Prairie sister, Mariah, stinging with frost, steals my breath. She, my constant companion and playmate, howls louder even than the queen of horseshoe hill. I visit the sand plum trees, now bare. I visit the wild strawberry patch, now hibernating. I visit the horse. He stands silent, warm, and gray as the sky. I gather pine cones on the way to the old barn. Barn creaks his warnings about rusty nails, and age, and certain death. Once again I leave before exploring.

When I lived in Oklahoma, the only inhabitants of the sky were clouds, lightening, rain, hail, and snow. I do not recall any memory of living birds until after I came back to Texas. Oklahoma was a good place to watch lightening storms, tornados, hot-air balloons, and brave pilots.