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 craw-dads, shooting at crows with an air rifle, catching bull frogs, 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."