Not all who wander are lost….but in this case I was lost for over two hours in an unfamiliar woods. It was the best thing that ever happened. Discovered some amazing landscapes and even more brilliant trees. Felt a calling to wander ever closer to this particular forest’s edge.
When a crow and its shadow become one.
Droplets of rain cling like teary cruor torn from the sky. They pause at the intersection of wood and air, within cold thorny branches intersecting space and time.
Geese fly through a cold winter sky. There’s a hush in the air. The grey clouds are heavy, laden with snow, but yet it resists the Fall. I wait, watching, anticipating it’s arrival, but only the wind touches my face. I can feel winter’s cold hand. It grazes my cheek, but will not wrap me in its white robes, will not envelop me with its embrace. I have been here waiting, from the sun’s bright ascent to the close of the day, but it does not fall. Winter’s snow holds back from me, like a reticent sparrow, peeking from the trees, unmoving yet aware, unsure of my intentions, though I offer only love.