I glanced over to the woven wicker basket in the soil beside me. Seeing it was almost full I stood up from the drying mud-pie that has been baking under the summer sun. I could feel that my knees were wet as a warm breeze blew by.
I picked up the basket and took a look around the yard. I could see the sprinkler clicking in a circle in the middle of the lawn, along with the children jumping through it; trampling the grass into muddy puddles. I could see the mud speckle their legs each time they bounded through the jet of water.
I looked up to the sun that just began its decent out of the heights of the sky. I walked to the hose tap, the wicker basket at my hip. Behind my back I could hear disappointed groans as the water ceased to flow.
“Kids that enough for now,” I called out to them, “I need help snapping these greenbeans for dinner!”
I could hear the mud squishing beneath their feet as they stampeded towards me. I sat down to hearing the first bean snap between my fingers and fall into the bucket below.