Clouds Ran

This morning the very cool, green rice in garnished fog, which adds to the cool atmosphere.
And behold the cloud, as if running, gave space to the eye to see the blue of the sky, as the sun rose, the day of the afternoon.

And the heat of the sun began to sting, burning the peasants' blacks, the rice plants they harbor seemed not so good, too many pests and diseases, for some reason. But their spirit never weakened, still thankful with the slightest gift in life.