This Part Of Happy

sometimes I'd slip down to the waterhole, long-strap overalls rolled to the knees, dipping into cool ripples lapping over my feet; olive-green minnows tickling between my toes and under. Leaning backward 'til my head rests on linked fingers, arms akimbo my hands a pillow, sinking into the verdant tower of furry-tail sedges walling me in and around, the green scent of wet earth and chlorophyll slowing the breath escaping my lungs, lulling me under. Soft rays, filtering through rain-washed light, gleaming upward in an iridescent bow covering this part of happy.