People these days...

"What do you think about people?" asked Autumn, twirling a stalk of golden wheat between his fingers. Summer was lying next to him, enjoying the sun. She shuffled around a bit and propped her head up on her hand, looking at him.


"People? I like them well enough. They like having fun, and so do I," she grinned widely. "I guess you could say we're compatible. What about you?"


Autumn closed his eyes and sighed. "Oh, they're fine. I just wish they'd quit cutting down trees for once. It certainly doesn't do anything for the aesthetics of the landscape, let me tell you that."


"Yes, that does get irritatng. But they do need trees for those little houses of theirs, don't they?" Summer said absently, staring at Autumn's profile against the blue sky.


"They seem to like using concrete these days," he said. "And that is certainly not as nice as wood."


Summer sat up and looked down at him. "They can do wonderful things with glass, you know. Have you ever visited Venice? Intimately, I mean. Not just a quick passing-over."


Autumn stretched mightiliy and sat up beside her. She watched him, admiring his ever-present grace and the fluidity of his movements. "I have indeed seen Venetian glass, and I agree it is a feat of artistry. However, trees hold a much deeper meaning for me than melted sand."


"I suppose that's understandable. But you can't deny that they have a certain... flair with the things they do."


He cracked a smile. "No, I can't disagree with you there. They are such romantic things. I remember when they used to walk around in the forests and draw pictures or take photographs of the trees and animals."


Summer watched as he put the wheat stem between his lips and begin to chew on it. "Yes, well, they still do that."


"Not as often as they used to," he sighed. "Didn't you notice?" He opened his eyes and gave her a patronizing look. "I suppose you never were one for observing."


"On the contrary," she said, marvelling at how similar the color of his eyes was to the color of the wheat field they were sitting in, "I observe all the time."


He laughed, his eyes still looking into hers, and a happy shiver went up her spine. "That's strange. It never seems like you sit still long enough notice much of anything."


She smiled sunnily at him. "You'd be surprised."


The faintest of blushes pinked his cheeks, and he shifted his gaze back to the blue sky. Summer giggled.