I am squinting my eyes a little as the sun is getting ready to set. Yet when I close my eyes here in paradise, I see Georgia in front of me. It is dusk and I am small. The garden that my dad planted is almost ready for harvest now. It seems acres long, and like it stretches endlessly to the foothills of the mountains, but I know that I am safe. This is my own secret garden. He just called me and I pretend not to hear him. "Watch out for snakes," he says. My dress brushes up against the tall grass of the fields all around me. Barefoot, alive, and full of strength, I sprint to the end of the garden where I come out to a clearing. The sky is orange and I can see the fireflies begin to emerge. I fall into the summer grass and look up at the sky, trying to define with my young mind what the colors were. Little did I know, a Georgia sky at dusk would always be indescribable, but I would never forget it.
