Above Robert’s farm in the high meadow behind the stone walls – those hand laid field markers separating crops from mystical woods – I walked. Early morning rays over new greenery and distant hills began touching lightly the fern leaves and wet stones In a clearing, a shagbark hickory graced this view somewhat solitary in its splendor regal above the huckleberries and milkweed But as the wings of the morning rose shadows moved westward and new light of this day dressed the curling bark in rich honey and breathtaking gold And radiantly, it glowed, as finches lifted from branches and took flight I sat as the day awoke and imagined each spring – a new seasoned flock separating from these giving limbs finding their own way to new skies
Wanderings and Reflections