Through the trees, down a winding trail, there is a little farm.
I tiptoe up to the fence and watch the cows slowly start their day.
They graze in the soft morning light, gentle grunts floating up from the soil.
I remain unseen.
The magic of this morning keeps me hidden a few moments longer than usual.
The spell is broken when they espy the crisp, green stalks of celery in my hands.