The early morning shines its clouded darkness over the open field
Truck doors, almost silently, open and close as hushed whispers dissipate into the open stillness
Beads of soft, yellow light part the dark depths of an autumn dawn not quite risen
The trail of light leads gentle footfalls over a nonexistent path while heavy boots crush the stiff, short stalks of alfalfa
As the field reaches its completion, the stream of light searches like a silent wanderer searches for its niche
A small hole, a window into another world, is found among the lofty brambles and weeds that edge the field
Enter here a haven, almost completely sheltered from the slanders of man, enter here, the woods
An even greater depth of dreary darkness emerges as the field is left behind as a distant memory. The beam of light glows softly,
Manipulating the surrounding shadows, illuminating only a few feet of the rough,
uneven ground and the well-worn tips of leather boots
On occasion, a step is marred by the presence of a twig, and as the rupture of its halves resounds through the open walls of ancient trees,
The woods themselves stop breathing, if only to gather ear for further sounds of intrusion
A calm peace echoes throughout as the shadows and chills of night
are replaced by bright morning rays of sun
The enchantment of the woods is awakened – birds proclaim their jubilance while squirrels romp and scamper about
Rich browns sculpt the ancient trees in a never-ending flow of life
Red, yellow, orange, and brown leaves cover the ground in a giant, flowing patchwork quilt of color
But all is forgotten as the deer appears, drifting soundlessly into presence
Noiselessly it moves, eternally aware of its surroundings and intrusions of its temporary haven
Such grace and elegance it possesses, such simple beauty – then gone!
as if it were only a figment of imagination
As the chill of morning turns to afternoon heat, heavy boots regrettably head for the window of brambles and weeds leading to the outside world.