Bree with her Dora binoculars on.
I love when the field behind us has corn.
Day by day, week by week, I watch it grow. I watch the fireflies crawl up the leaves and light the summer nights. Then slowly, little by little, the corn starts to dry out and turn brown. And day by day, week by week, the excitement inside me grows along with the corn as the best season of all inches closer.
Fall, I anxiously await you.
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