Breckwyn (which beginning?)

I am trying to get the beginning of my new Story just right, I know I will probably change it about a million times before the story is actually complete but I really want to start out with a good base. They both basically tell the same story but in different styles. Which one do you personally prefer? Don't be afriad to tell me they are both fine or they both stink, I would just appreciate the feedback. :)

Okay, here it goes :D

Chapter 1: The perfect beginning

The day had been a warm one, sunny and bright with a certain kiss of coolness to the air, the first day of spring. Fresh new leaves and flowers were popping up over night, uncurling from their buds and dancing in the wind like fairies from some strange world where everything was delicate and new. Young foals pranced on spindly legs in the fields beside their indulgent mothers and young fawns did much the same, yet in more delicate and wild and watchful of a manner.

Now that the day was ending, clouds the color of doves, kissed pink with the setting sun, spread out their wings over the land like a mother hen tucking her children into bed. The perfect day turning into the perfect night. It was in this moment that Breckwyn, a young man of no special importance, decided that the world was good and everything in it. Why, even the young frogs and crickets that began to sing their nightly serenade were perfect in their own earthly way.

He breathed in the evening air with relish, stretching out his young arms to their fullest extent before, with sudden shock, realizing that he had stayed out too late and would be caught in the dark. It was not that he feared the dark but the worry he knew his mother would feel was enough to quicken his step as he walked over to the old horse and plow he had borrowed that day. As he went he stepped between evenly spaced rows dug into the dirt, his own little garden that he had worked tirelessly that day to create.

As of yet it lay bare, with out a sprout or seedling to bring the naked earth to life, but to him each speck of dirt in that plain stretch was already bursting to bloom with the dreams and hopes of a full harvest, the very thing to nudge his own family back to life. The field, though very small, had cost him his life’s work, his full 16 years of it, spent in dreams and days of hard labor under more privileged men. Now, after all that time of depending on others for his daily bread, he could form his own life. It was no wonder that the boy practically glowed with the joy of it.

Okay, this is the second part, a little less flowery and more down to earth:

It had been a good day, full of sun, rich earth, and hard work.  I had just finished plowing the last row on the small plot of  land I meant to farm.  It wasn't much, very small compared to the other marked off plots around it but I had worked hard for it, my whole childhood if you counted all the years I had dreamt of it. I had put sweat and blood into each straight row and effort into every clump and clod of dirt. Along the side were all the stones I tirelessly pulled from the soil, they had been trouble but I had them to thank to thank for the land being as cheap as it had been. I walked down the rows , dreaming in my minds eye all the little sprouts I could plant there, all the possibilities that lay in every speck. I won’t lie, I felt proud as a young buck.

Satisfied with what I had done I looked at the horizon, spotting my village in the distance. It was small, barely disturbing the land it sat upon and framed in a brilliant show of pink and red by the setting of the sun and overshadowed by dove colored clouds. The feelings that rose in my heart were such that I could barely express, of home, of what the future held. Even as tired as I should have been energy filled me to the brim. I moved quickly over to working horse I had borrowed for the day. He was old, and heavy bodied but even he sensed my excitement and switched his ears attentively as I came up. I unhitched him from the old plow I had used, also borrowed, and jumped aboard his broad back.

Both of these are re-writes. My very original beginning was very fast paced but according to feedback a little confusing so I though I would try a more slow approach and this is what resulted. I like both of them personally, so I just don't know what to do.

This is the link to the original:  http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/work.php?id=100795