Notes From the Blossoming Woods

 

Hawthorn Blossom and leaves

A collage of new green speckled white with the petals of apple and hawthorn blossoms.  The soft sweetness of Japanese Honeysuckle.  So much bird song even my Merlin App can’t keep up with it.

I breathe deep and walk purposely one footstep at a time. I step where the deer have walked, I know because I can see their footprints in the mud.

Now I part the honeysuckle bush like a curtain and arrive at the waterfall.  It’s small, only a few feet high,  but loud enough to blur the birdsong.

Frog jumps into the steam and becomes a rock.

I pass the little pine as tall as my boot.  It has many arms, each one holding a thick, pale green tassel.  It looks like it’s celebrating, glad to be alive.

As we turn for home, Fate, like a horse,  just wants to get back.

She runs ahead, but Zinnia waits for me.  There is always something for her to sniff or eat, while I squat to look at what I think is a centipede on a rock and nod to the hawthorn who is as tall as me.

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