The thrum of crickets' wings trilled across the backdrop of fabric-like hills. Each shadow and texture inlaid into the scenery was dramatic, lines clearly sketched out. Whispering blue grass hid small creatures from sight.
The narrow, scarlet face of a she-fox peered out from her den beneath a dip in the earth, sniffing cautiously. Then she trotted out, seemingly confident, her two exuberant, tumbling kits bobbing after her.
A hawk passed over the sun, casting a haunting shadow that still seemed in place over the acres of blue and red and yellow wildflowers. Mice froze for a moment, then skittered to a more secure shelter.
Horses watched from fenced in pastures, shaking their manes and whinnying, before kicking up their heels and galloping an adventurous romp around the length of twisted wire, yearning for the boundary-less freedom that glowed from the wild things.
The sky was a painted sapphire, the sun a saucer of liquid sunflower. A single platinum cloud floated drowsily across the horizon, contradicting the hurry of the land animals with a carefree, drowsy meander across the sky.
Horsetail and foxglove, mint and nettles all turned their emerald noses to the sky, and the world let out a contented sigh, a breeze tousling the golden hair of the hills.