She called it Glory Land in her mind. As she drew in a deep, lasting, breath of the Indian Summer, she could practically taste the day's golden hour. It was her favorite time of day, and it tasted like freedom. The meadow's tall grass tickled the backs of her knees, and she reached down from time to time, absently swatting it away. The clearing had become her own personal sanctuary, the one place she met Him most. The sun kissed her shoulders, and a delighted glee escaped her lips. She stooped down, bending the sunflowers at their stem in order to make a bed for herself. On her back, arms behind her head, she made His face in the clouds. And just as she closed her eyes to take it all in one more time before her mom called her in for dinner, she saw him, and he was beautiful; more beautiful than she could have imagined.