Like curtains at an open window, the Weeping Willow's long branches billowed in hot wind. In front of the house, the sunny fields of tall corn made a green ocean, and the wind in the corn made green waves. Beside the porch, wind blowing through the maple tree's quaking leaves sounded like a soft rain falling.
Also that day, just to have something to do, the three Dukes girls came walking down the gravel road in front of our house. They joked and laughed with one another, and their long dresses and long hair swirled and danced in the hot breezes. As they walked on the road they reminded me of bright little clouds sailing across the blue summer sky.
"Red Dog," I said, "why do these girls walking down the road seem so lovely to me? When they laugh, even though I don't know what's so funny, why do I also laugh?"
With a special look in his eyes, Red Dog gazed toward the gravel road.
"Ruff!" he replied with what obviously was a dog-laugh.
"Red Dog," I laughed in return, "maybe you and I have invented a new kind of laughter. If we have, let's call it 'joining-with-laughs-that-are-carried-in-summer-wind-laughter'."
Then Red Dog laughed again, and I did, too.