Field of the town

The field connecting the two towns together was in an Autumn rush. Scarcely, could one see the oily green hidden in between the golden yellow, not to mention the fiery red fruits that hung low in the bush.

The country road that ran all the way straight, mountain after mountain, was waiting eagerly for its usual customers--travelers that went all the way from the west to the east, through the almost forgotten passage.

Carriages with two horses trod the path unhurriedly; while cabins with four horses, or sometimes up to eight with firm muscles, ran along with haste.

Dust was dancing in the dry air, under each step of a horse.

The riders, mostly dressed in their casual shorts, would envy the vast field at first sight, but as the journey continued, they would soon lose interest in the wild untamed nature, and return to their never ceasing chatters.