Hello. Let me tell you about a charismatic adorable little girl known as Stacy Starlet. She is an eight-year-old girl. She has medium long blonde hair and pretty blue eyes.
She likes to laugh a lot. When a loved one tickles her feet she giggles real sweet. She also likes to run and play. It keeps her fit and healthy and that makes her happy. But especially she likes to write stories so other little girls and boys can enjoy them, too. This is one of those tales. Stacy is always so sweet and gracious. She hopes you enjoy the story.
Here I am standing in this meadow, waiting. Not waiting for anything particular, but just waiting. I'm standing here looking at the lush green countryside. It is made up of gently rolling hills that disappear off into the horizon. Prettily, the horizon just happens to be the color of a forest fire. I like the orange glow.
I look down at the green grass that can only be Kentucky Blue Grass for that is where I find myself standing, in the state of Kentucky. It is a deep forest green color, but when the morning sun hits it at a sidelong angle it looks to be a bluish green.
The early morning dew reflects little worlds of rainbows off each individual grass blade until the glare is too brilliant to gaze upon.
On top of the little hill to my left stands a lone apple tree. With its lush little red apples gleaming so tauntingly in the morning light it irresistibly pulls me in that direction.
A family of Blue Jays perched sporadically through out the apple tree's branches are singing happily a tune that welcomes you into their meadow and makes you feel at ease.
With a puff of dirt, followed by a little sneeze, comes the little black nose and wiggling whiskers of a groundhog whose mound of turned soil at the base of the hill marks her home. Her earth brown fur shines surprisingly strong considering she lives out much of her life underground.
She gingerly stands on her hind legs and looks around the meadow she knows as her home. She looks for any signs of danger so that she may come out and forage for breakfast. Her whiskers twitch as she sniffs into the wind for any signs that might help her make up her mind.
She swivels her head nearly a hundred and eighty degrees behind and as her big black eyes pass through me this what I see: Eyes so soft, composure so wise, and the expression playing across her little dirt brown face seemingly so innocent.
With a quick turn of her little head she takes one big sniff and dives back into her hole. You can see little mounds of soil being piled up trying to close off the opening, as she perceives a danger to her and her family.