Forests of Wonder
What happens in the minutia
The path was strewn with remnants of pine cones tossed about. Signs the resident squirrels are nearby. Otter droppings left on rocks, inform you they were here, too. Thrumppp, says the grouse you disturbed in the brush. As your clumsy feet tread over the towering pine’s moss-covered roots. Dew transitions from the thick brush onto bare skin and pants, as you part the leafy fronds in front of you.
The sun casts a ray of sunshine between the lower branches with the promise of sweltering heat in the next hour. A slight breeze cools the dampness on your skin. As early morning mosquitos stir. The earthy woody scent of cedar permeates the senses. As you breathe a full breath.
Why would I ever want to be anywhere else?
The magic of life happens in the dew-riddled spun web, at eye height. A bubbling stream runs over a crop of rocks between cedar trees. Its bank overflow with yellow decaying leaves from last fall.
The essence of life careens through the forest in the treetops of our world. Where the mighty take flight o’er the graceful swaying trees. Eagles gliding in the gentle air currents, first up, then down. An eye to the forest floor below. Something will head their way. From a dizzying height, they watch the fisherman with their catch on…
