I enter into the soft night air. A lazy summer scent of plants and warm earth. The trees, standing majestic, and the grass illuminated with a sunset iridescence. Over the back wall, peach-pink clouds tinged with pastel yellow, brushed carelessly across the sky in broad sweeps.
Into the wood, treading softly. The peaceful silence, as civilisation sleeps, seeps through my being. I pause awhile in stillness, just being, taking it in.
A canopy of leaves, an impressionist canvas of dusky greens set against a backdrop of peach-tinged blue, whispers and sighs in the evening breeze. The dark silhouettes of beech and rowan, receding into the deepness of the wood. A solitary spider, suspended, motionless, on a delicate pattern of invisible threads between two twigs, hanging above.
The stream murmurs a gentle lullaby as it tumbles on, never-ending.
Two pipistrelles, with acrobatic precision, flit to and fro, in a daring game of hold-on-and-swerve-at-the-last-minute.
I could stay here forever.
I turn and leave the wood. Back into the noises and glare of civilisation, the harsh orange light drowning out the peace...
I actually just went out to feed the horse and lock the hens up, but there you go...
Come Like Children
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The future belongs to the children and the child-like.
The ones who are youngest will lead -- not just in age but in thinking...
*...Those who are willin...
1 day ago
