A crisp breeze dances off the branches of the mighty ash, A cool breath from the heavens above, Descending down to the rushing river below, Cooling the tempers of the passers-by.
Where they have come from, passions soar, Like a hot August day, Overripe with the heat of summer, As they walk, that feeling fades, And the fresh breeze of autumn takes hold, That cool cleansing clarity overtakes them, And they follow the river as it rushes on.
The forest teemed with life as we elevated further into the dense wilderness. Golden Eagles and Osprey soared above the canopy while red squirrels and chipmunks darted between the vegetation on the forest floor. As we climbed, the sweet smell of pine and birch trees drifted gently upon us. In the distance, the azure sky began to cloud, and golden beams of heavenly light descended from above. We climbed each step, becoming heavier on the legs and lungs as we hurled ourselves up the mountainside. Upon reaching the precipice, I strayed from my party and stood alone atop the mountain as I looked down at the mighty sea, endless forest, and soaring birds and found new meaning to the word peace. As we descended, the clouds turned a cream color as that light began to fade, and I observed that perhaps the path to oneself could be found in a forest wilderness.
The piercing call of a broad-shouldered hawk, A gentle trickle of sunlight cascading through the trees, Rainbow Trout rising from a flowing stream, Golden leaves breaking off from branches and taking to the sky, And the crisp cool autumn wind pushing out the swollen summer heat.
This is the time of reflection, Nature’s rebuke of summertime contentment, Flashing her beauty in a sea of burgundy and gold, Gentle mornings seemingly painted with a divine brush, Leading to deep blue afternoon skies, Ending in the cold darkness that warns of winter’s arrival.
My heart cannot help but dance, For as leaves blow in the mighty wind, Does my soul take flight, With the leaves of burgundy and gold, Into the autumn night.
The soft golden morning light glistened off the rain-soaked pines, An evening of storms reaching its end as the day burst through the night, That gentle golden hue shrouded the forest in the peace of late a summer haze, The shimmering leaves rustled in the gentle breeze, As hummingbirds darted past in the distance, All signs that despite all the calamity, Nature’s powerful play rolls on.