The Autumn Breathes

Pray for Calamity

Deep in the hardwood forest I watch the first orange light crest over the eastern ridge as dawn unfolds casting its warmth on the surface of the yawning Earth.  Poplar trunks stand firm above the gold and brown leaf cover that now mulches the hopeful seedlings while granting the white tail deer an auditory advantage over those who would stalk them through the hollers.  At this time of year the forest exhales and retreats from the above ground toil of photosynthesis to a season of focus within the dense and teeming skin of the planet.  Without the brush and laden bough, one can see for miles across the waves of ridge and ravine.  Sound is without obstacle, and seems almost propelled by the chill wind when it punctures the otherwise heavy silence.  The feeling is one of calm, of that restfulness that comes when one crawls into bed and their…

View original post 896 more words

Advertisements