Yesterday we walked through the woods only with the intention to explore. We were confined only by the limitations of our mind and that of the park borders. We forgot to ask about what we would be doing in an hour. We left behind the fancy of thought lost in the hours that have yet to happen, because we were so swept away, so immersed in the immediate questions of this tree or that bird. It felt like hours had passed, though it had only been minutes, because just around the corner of every moment a new discovery lay in wait. Is this the same park we come to every weekend?
Redwood cedar boughs dip and make a perfect seat to sit and watch the march of ants up the sloping bark. Big leaf maple leaves dot the trodden path, and you always seem to find the perfect one to pick up and take for a walk. Quaking Aspen, with yellow and green leaves, shiver and flash in the light breeze, shuddering brilliance against the clear blue sky. We dream of forever in this moment.
Every patch of bent grass appears as if it’s some kind of secret entrance that beckons us further into the brush, under the prickled, hairy canopy of moss laden tree limbs. We sit for a while in the marsh and listen to the birds dance between treetops in hopes of seeing one flash right in front of our eyes, or sing it’s lovely melodies just above our heads. We dare to hope. Though we don’t need it, because we see its limitations all around and hear it in the marsh frog’s croak.
Not too bad for an hour or so in the park.
Lost in your smiles
Let’s walk another mile
Along the birch grove.
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