Melting ice beats to a sacred rhythm, as the Sun’s warmth awakens the land from a cold night’s slumber. The nocturnal ones give way to the day shift, as sounds from the Northern forest commence their daily numbers. A cool mystical fog lays thick on the receding snow, from the lack of a stiff wind to guide it through the old growth, that has yet to be found by the logger. The Maple has gathered it’s sweet flow of liquid life to re-energize for another season, as the hawk on it’s limb spots the first morning meal, creeping out from last year’s leaf. And another day of life starts here on Earth.
You must be logged in to post a comment.