Sunflowers

My imperfect "essay" in my imperfect English about  

How to spend time in a field of sunflowers

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In a field of sunflowers? How would I spend my time? Hmm...first of all, I want to say that I could use “we” instead of “I”, to talk about the both of us, to talk about what we could do, but I don’t know if my ideas would fit your personality or desires, so I’ll just talk about myself.

So, I will expose my ideas here, and if any of them will sound fun or relaxing for you, then we will going to find ourselves a field of sunflowers and spend a nice autumn day there.  

I’m going to dress in some old and funky and comfortable clothes. Those which any of us have in the closet, but are too old or too out of line to still wear them. Those old clothes that we used to wear a lot, to love a lot, but now are just laying there in the closet, because we just cannot throw them away. A hippie colorful long skirt, a shirt that has little holes in it, and lost a little bit from the power of its color. I wouldn’t care if my hair is straggly because the wind played with it. And barefooted. Definitely, barefooted.

I’d be running after birds, trying, just like them, to spread my wings and fly. And I would fly. I’d close my eyes and see everything a bird sees from up there. I’d tie a yellow ribbon around a tree and start to sing as loud (and lousy) as I can that song. But I wouldn’t be expecting any one else. And of course I will be dancing. As clumsy as I can. With the wind, with myself, with you, if you feel like dancing.

I’d stay still for half an hour to see how a sun flower changes her position after the sun. I’d ask her why is she doing that, because I’m even more colorful than the sun is, and I’m spreading even more heat than the sun does. Then I’ll laugh and kiss the little flower.

I’d take pictures. Tons and tons of pictures. Of me, of the sunflower, of me and the sunflower, of any little bug I see, of you, of us, of the present, of the past and of the future. I’d play with kites. My kite will be yellow with purple flowers. I love yellow and purple, in this combination. It’s girlie and childish, and I like it. When I’ll get tired, I’ll just lay on the ground and watch how the clouds are passing by. I’m going to dare you to tell me their shapes. Some look like Jerry, some look like dinosaurs, some look like flowers, airplanes or turtles. The winner will be that one who finds the strangest shaped cloud.  And the prize will be...hmm...a poem about a sunflower or a wreath of sunflowers. Then I’d dare you to try to hear how a stone is growing. I’d pretend then that I am Japanese, maybe even a samurai.

Just sit and have the deepest sigh ever. For all the sadness in the world. For our dead relatives or friends, for our killed past loves, for the friends we used to have and changed or left, for the pets that used to lick our faces in the morning, for our grandparents’s house, that is now a modern 20 levels apartment building. And afterwards, we’ll capture that sigh in a smile, we’ll have the sunset in our eyes, and we will be grateful for what we have now.

We’ll know it’s time to go when we’ll see the sunflowers bending their heads down, because the sun is going to sleep.

So, B., what do you think?