The hills were crushing against the sky
The mills were waving their arms in the air
The birds flew and soared on high
As we watched from the seats accross the land
The houses docked themselves in the green
The church stood and caused a scene
The many poles added to the fray
Of the ever pleasing chaotic November day
In the distance the sky is blue
and the colours blend in a good natural hue
The writer takes all this in a smiles
And closes her eyes with a satisfying sigh.