The sun bright,
impossibly bright in the sky. The wooded areas, preternaturally thick with
shade and nuance, with shapes and designs of infinite types. Chipmunk runs
away, burrows into some ground cover, and the ants march on and on along the
old tree. Growth, verdant, makes its way across the old logs and is learning
how to be a vine, a tree, a stem, a budding flower. The old path new again. So
quiet as if it has been forgotten. No worry, for now it is rediscovered. No Zen
Koan needed, because the viewer is there and if the tree falls it shall be
seen, witnessed, recorded, and even pictured perhaps. Those tropical and
topical plants, mixing and trying to marry the blue sky. A jet stream, some
clouds, - butterflies dancing down the way and even the moths have a certain
beauty, their cadence and rhythm just as well as any creature of the ground or
air. Let’s stop in the shaded area and wait. A buzzing sound. Some bees. Some
strange animal insect, perhaps undiscovered! Going along the outside perimeter
pathway and sensing the cooler forest just ahead. We leave the sun, arching,
even aching in the sky, - bleeding ten billion points of light down like
lasers. A breeze arrives, a rare one, and dances over the wildflowers. There we
go; - back again to where we arrived from, our footfalls soft but sure, spry,
great and graceful under the afternoon tree cover.
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