I lie down in the cool grass. I study the fresh dew on the grass and roll around in the mix of green and water and grass and dew until I am soaking wet and laughing hard. I kick off my sandals and stand up. I run through the dewy grass. When I'm too tired to run, I close my eyes, twirl around, and fall to the ground. I laugh until I can't laugh anymore. I'm not laughing because something is funny, I'm laughing because I'm happy. Extremely happy. I love being happy. I love the meadow I am in. I sniff the air and the air smells fresh and coo; and smells like rain. I stand up again and walk through the meadow, feeling the cool grass and fresh, wet dew on my bare feet. I crouch down to study the dew on one of the blades of grass. The dew makes the grass look beautiful, like a painting of green sprinkled with crystal fairy dust. It's beautiful. I whip out my camera and take a picture of the beautiful, wonderful sight of the one blade of grass with the dew on it.