Boy Lying in the Grass

When I was a boy, a summer vacation in the country always contained a good deal of fishing, not to mention hunting crawdads, shooting at crows with an air rifle, catching bullfrogs, collecting old birds' nests, and attempts to tattoo ourselves with ordinary pen and ink. But there were also hours of heavenly loafing, lying in tall grass, chewing a straw and listening to the insects making "a joyful noise unto the Lord."