Meadowlark Prairie You guide me with your hands

Skipping along the prairie (wow, made it to today-years-old not knowing I didn't spell 'prairie' right my entire life) Sunhawk stopped to smell the goldenrod, sneezing loudly as pollen flew up his mouth and nose like a stonked-up gutter. Blegh! He rubbed the snot off on one dark leg and continued. There was a path that cut through the purple strife and goldenrod, and on a whim Sunhawk followed it.

Wherever this path lead, it didn't lead to shade. Sunhawk darted under a dogwood bush to catch his breath, wondering if he'd see any other giants out this way. Or maybe, they only inhabited the mountains.