The True Vyne

Outside my bedroom window this morning stands a lovely sight. Past the faltering zinna garden, over the freshly graveled driveway, and into the dewed neighbor's field, three black calves are silhouetted by the bright morning sun streaming through the trees. Vapor clouds blow from their little noses as they glance dociley my way. I take in the sublime nature of the cows and look forward to a quiet day.