This is exactly how Sunday afternoon should be. Just the bright blue sky, the deep blue hills, and a quiet field full of flowers. I enjoy these quiet moments, perhaps not quiet enough to break into a twirl while singing "the hills are alive" at the top of my lungs, mostly because as much as I love music I cannot carry a tune, but in these moments surrounded by so much life and beauty, I can definitely see where Fraulein Maria was coming from. For now, though, I'll leave the singing to her and stick with quietly picking flowers.
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