I couldn't imagine growing up anywhere else other than a farm. I miss the gurgling sounds of irrigation houses as they watered the fields and the cool blanket it would produce over the farm on a hot summer night. Or playing in the dense sticky mud with my brothers and sister acting like we were stuck in quick sand, helpless to escape. However, nothing compares to the night sky on a clear evening. It would make any star gazer green with envy with its vivid scenery, wild life in the background and fresh brisk air. Once the coral and amethyst sky transforms into a vast amplitude of jet black the real joy began.

A colossal umbrella of luminous stars would metamorphasized amongst the ocean of darkness. Every star and planet would be in its' proper place every night. A full moon would seemed to lighten the night, projecting invisible rays that would high light the mountains on the horizon. The stars would glitter and gleam, blinking wildly aginst the contrasting black night. Constellations were emense and easy to spot. The North star always shined brighter than the others making it effortless to find the Big Dipper.Some of my favorite memories are attached with the starry sky.

Wildlife would invigorate the evening with its harmonious tunes. Frogs would start croaking and bellowing as the stars started to gleam. Crickets could be heard performing their orchestra of chirps and whistles for the man on moon. An occasional hoot from an underground owl would echo aginst concrete ditches, carrying its' heckle down the fields. A calming rhythm of trickling water from near by canals would almost be hypnotizing while admiring the twinkling stars.

A perfume of crisp fresh air would enliven one's sense of smell. Freshly irrigated fields gave off a neoteric aroma stimulating the senses. A few months out of the year when alfalfa was grown, a redolence of hundred mowed lawns filled the air. It smelt like greenery with a hint of musk. There would be an eerie stillness throughout the atmosphere that gave a sense peace until noticing faint sounds in the distance.

Now, as I’m older and live in the city, I’ll look up to the sky hoping to see a flood of stars only to be let down by murky clouds and a meager amount of stars that seem to have lost their sparkle. I will always remember nights on the farm with its’ marquee of stars, untamed wildlife and fresh crisp air. It’s the little things that you take for granted and don’t realize how special they are until those moments are almost just a memory.