I) The sunrise, gossamer silver clouds, beams of light arrayed around,
Autumn scent of harvested fields. leaves crunching underfoot.
The chill of a crisp morning and the shadows of deer in the field
backdropped with bright yellows, orange and red.
II) The brown crunch of spent weeds accompanies me to the treeline. Above me a sweet cacophony-
thousands upon thousands of birds gathering to winter south.
They suddenly alight in a undulating black mass; swirling, expanding,
then resettling with a wild excited whirr of wing and wonder.
The swarm, astonishingly coordinated, seems to breathe and twist with an inexplicable grace.
III) I walk the trail at dusk, my feet heavy and my breath steams in the chill.
The swish of leaves echo in the woods. Hands in pockets, I slog along,
squinting into the last rays of the amber twilight. I round a bend and find myself
a scant distance from two surprised deer. I look at them and they look at me,
unmoving for what seems like a long time. I long to move closer, but they saunter off into the wood.
I stand there and think until the sun is gone.
