coutrybumpkin
The morning sun came up over the hills in the east. The mist on the river hung on for it's last breath. The dogs began to stir. Up came the eldest woman, shuffled to the hot coals, turned them over with a well worn stick and began a small fire, with some water to boil. A baby cries, for just a moment. Another woman comes out into the cool morning air, tying the babe to her back. The sun hits the elder woman's face, another day has come.