Nature

I am on the beach.

The sand feels warm and inviting on my feet.

I love the “swish, swish” of the waves.
The pebbles are tumbled, soft clear white.
The seashells call to me to look at them.

A child is making a sand castle, with a red, metal pale.
Another child is blowing bubbles.
A single bubble floats by me.

I am happy.
I see myself in the bubble, happy, along with this whole beach, sky, and ocean, in that little bubble.
It floats away to carry my happiness beyond me.

You’re sitting in a comfortable chair, around eight P.M., and the sun is gently lowered behind a tall oak tree.

A basket of red flowered petunias grows out of an orange ceramic pot. It’s very quiet.

You have a few birds chatting high up in the apple tree to your right, and two sparrows are hopping along the grass, searching for that last evening snack.

Out of nowhere, you hear a distant rumble. It’s very faint, very subtle. Barely audible. Barely distinguishable.

It’s a hot, sultry evening. The sun’s warm rays, basking the earth all day, has left a comfortable blanket covering the front lawn.

The moon is new, and the darkness that swept in with the outgoing sun provides a perfect background for a laser light show.

How peaceful and utterly void of light is your yard. It’s dark, and you’re enjoying the tranquility that accompanies absolute stillness.

What’s that? Hey what was that?

Out of the corner of your eye, you think you saw a flash of light.

There it is again!

A few years ago, while hiking through the Mount Ascutney Mountains in Vermont, I found myself absolutely mesmerized by the stunning beauty of the deciduous pine forest. In particular, my eyes were being pulled towards the pinecones. Kind of like a magnet, I was attracted to the pinecones.

They densely garnished the tall pines. They came from all sizes, from two inches, up to seven, and perhaps more. They were everywhere, on the floor, on the branches. And the hues changed from light, pale green, to a royal forest green, to a hazel, to dark brown.

I like to sit in my back yard, and listen to the great composers: Vivaldi’s “Flute Concerto #2”, the solo flutist, and Giuseppe Verdi’s “La Traviata”, the duel between Violetta and Alfredo. And Beethoven’s “Moonlight Serenade”, that single solo piano.

The sounds of the orchestra, the flutes, the piccolos, the French horns, the bassoons, the clarinets, the oboes, the violas, the cellos, the trumpet, each instrument is beautiful music to my ear. Perhaps you like this too.

There’s a brook along the road on my drive home from work. I stopped there today, parked my car, and I walked out to the middle of the brook. You can do it if you’re very careful, and you select the stones that rise just above the shallow eight inches of the babbling brook.

I walked out to the middle, and I stopped. And I crouched down. A few feet away, the brook gets deeper, maybe three to four feet. And the rapids are moving quicker. The sound is intensified, so strong and so loud, you can’t even hear the cars passing on the highway just 40 yards away.

You’re walking along the ocean shore in Truro, Massachusetts, and Cape Cod. You feel all alone in the world right now.

You went for a walk, to kind of gather yourself, but still, you feel alone.

The area in Truro is distant from the parking lots, so very few people ever venture out that far.

So you see no sun bathers. All you see are a few seagulls.

But basically you’re alone. Or are you?

Aromatic Forest
Imagine you are going hike today
You just put on your new hiking boots
And you have a good sturdy strong hiking stick in your left hand
As you look ahead the woods are very green and very inviting
Majestic oaks and maples tower about you 90 to100 feet
Providing the most wonderful cover from the hot sun
A gentle breeze is blowing
Under the cover of these majestic tress
Patches of green growth provides homes to countless little creatures
You pass an evergreen