To the untrained eye, or perhaps to a visitor unfamiliar with the area and its particular peculiarities, the tall green grass of the field appeared to be an unbroken, gently waving plane.  The eye might travel across its hypnotic surface until, with an uncomfortable sort of visual bump, it came to rest upon the base of the barn; or rather, the side of the barn several feet above the ground, at the point where the grasses could reach no higher.  Its faded red paint was unsightly to one who had not grown up with it, and the empty cavern where there might once have been a door appeared uninviting, even foreboding.  If, however, a person familiar with the barn would have come upon the scene, they would have seen the neat indentations in the grass, two of them, not so far apart, but far from the dirt road which ran alongside the field.  This person would not have stopped to wonder at these spots in which the grass was lower, but rather would have smiled secretly to himself, shaken his head, and moved along down the road.  But, as it happened, on this particular day there was no one walking along that road to see the imperfect surface of the grasses.  And even if there had been, the view of the passer-by would have been too obstructed by the grasses to see what it was causing those indentations in the grass.  Only the sun, shining down from above, and the few birds that flapped lazily across her golden surface could see what it was that lay there.  There lay a girl and a boy, or perhaps they were closer to a man and a woman.  They were in that rather difficult stage of the teenage years, in which they were neither grown nor growing.  They lay several feet apart looking utterly relaxed, gazing up at the clouds rolling indolently across the sky, sometimes falling across the sun’s harsh face and casting cooling shadows across the grasses below.  It seemed that they might have been lying there for only a few moments, or perhaps for an eternity.  When a breeze blew through the grasses, her fingers winding between the tall blades of grass to reach the figures lying upon the ground, the dark hair of the young man, and then the rather lighter hair of the girl would lift as if held aloft by the tendrils of sunlight that touched their young faces.  They would laugh at nothing but the sheer joy of lying there side by side, barefoot in the grass.  Now the young man turned towards her, able to see only thin strips of her body between the gently waving grasses between them.  Her face, as it was revealed piece by piece, was sun kissed and beautiful.  A gentle smile passing between them might have given a stranger the impression of love.  However, those who were closely acquainted knew that the depth of their relationship was much more than love in the traditional sense of the word.  It was a connection on some higher level, one that might better be described as Touch.  For indeed, it seemed that every aspect of their beings was in touch.  He reached out to her, and she to him, in what might have been a tender moment, until suddenly they had leapt to their feet, laughing, and dashed off across the grass towards the road, leaping on high, knees rising up out of the cool grass.  When they reached the road, they stopped, panting, hands on knees, to catch their breath.

*          *          *          *          *

I stood up first; I always did.  He always took longer to catch his breath, or perhaps he just needed that private moment with his eyes lowered to the dirt to last a bit longer.  For that was what it was.  We were near each other always, or at least most of the time, and as much as we cherished each others’ company, a private moment of peace was still a thing to be relished, at least for him.  I looked down on him for that one moment, the only moment I was permitted to do so, forgoing the opportunity to be alone within my mind for a moment.