On this breezy evening in July,
let's take the trail down to the woods.
Stand for a moment while the sun streams
through the trees that rise over the cedar swamp.
Hold still and listen for bird song and beating wings.
Here in the woods,
every bit of earth,
every rock and fallen feather,
tells a story.
In this mossy covered hollow log, a bumble bee makes her cozy home.
She has just landed after a long day of gathering,
of flying through meadows and hilly woodlands.
An old porcupine has lived in this burrow at the base of this gnarly old tree.
We could knock, but I don't think he likes early evening visitors.
These deer bones tell a sadder tale, but one that is a
natural part of the forest life cycle.
Even other hikers leave their mark,
I wonder who left this colorful rock on a stump?
In the high meadow,
insects with delicate wings
fly above fern and flower,
as the bramble-berries slowly swell.
The berries are green now and plentiful,
and there is satisfaction
in patiently waiting for them to ripen.
The woods are full of promise.
Where ever you are, whatever the weather, I wish you peace.