CLOUDS

At the beginning of the path if you just stop like a shaman or seer and stare with soft eyes along the far and far and far hillside you will see one of two things. Either nothing. Or something. There was a clump of something this time, and it looked or seemed differently than just some solitary chaparral or other. And it was. A deer was grazing. Quietly. Softly. Peacefully. I stayed looking. Knowing it would not turn up in a photo (far too far), - I tried for a video, - but I can see that nothing can be seen there either. So as I watched another one came from the bush, from where the lines of trees began. This one moved more, looked around more, - and seemed to have some antlers, possibly, upon its head, - though I don’t know for certain. I left them there after a few more moments and walked on.

The clouds were impossibly billowy and full, more like a

painting than reality so finely drawn, tuned, crafted they were. They peaked through the tree cover. Suddenly some bird that had been startled flew past. I am not sure if it was a wild turkey, of which there are several around those parts, - or something else. It seemed to be brown with red all over it and some kind of white flecks about it. I waited to see where it had gone and for it to take off again, - but I did not see it. Wildlife is often ephemeral, ghost-like, and this lends or speaks to the mystical side of their movements and being. 

Eventually we went off on our true way, and we went to the opening where there is a solitary tree, a sandpit, some sparsely spread out trees, green grasses, old tractor equipment, and so forth. Staying around there for a bit, Wolfe and Tessa walked around and ran around, sniffed here and there and looked sometimes quizzically at a bird a tree or rustle in the leaves. 

Heading back, I decided to go up the big hill and walk back that way. It is almost, on the top, as high as the trees. The ground is a mixture of green and golden and brown. There is a great view of the clouds, the blue sky, the horizon lines and the lines the tree tops make. Gone were the deer, but the dogs went down there and chased either their scent or a coyote. It was far and wide they went- what a range! - And for a full five minutes disappeared into the distant and, to me, strange forest (I have never been in there before and though I have an idea, - I don’t know exactly either what is there or where it all leads). 

I decided to take a few pictures of the sky and hill, some kind of wild growth, and of course, the clouds. I called for them and snapped and clapped. So loyal, in tune, and connected they were, - it was only moments before they appeared, though quite far away, - and made their way running back. Once they joined me, we were a proper three again, a type of quiet and to us, sacrosanct trinity. 

The clouds still painted overhead, we slowly and methodically began our walk out from the golden-green earth that lives under the blue and white sky. 

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