Simplicity came tumbling down the hill yesterday. It plodded happily back to the top through thick mint carpet. In the grass, each footstep's impression was magically erased. At the summit, he sat a moment and noticed how perfect land's green met sky's blue. Simple was ready for another ride. He tucked his arms deep into his chest, and let the weight of his head call timber as his trunk tilted over. His feet stuck out straight as momentum started spinning. His eyes blended the colors into a delicious smoothie. His nose tickled at every turn. Eyelashes sword fought with blades of grass. Even so young, simple had an idea about how special this was. Him and gravity playing on this perfect hill, on this perfect day. As this log of a boy rolled to a stop, he laughed so hard the grass giggled.