I have stood many times at this very spot; boots on wooden slats, jeans pressed against wood railing, eyes searching, mind whirling with thoughts, both feasible and fanciful. I felt time slow to a halt. I saw seasons change: the earthy colors of fall, the lifeless grays and browns of winter, the yellow-green liveliness of spring, and the bright green foliage of summer.
It may not be magical, but it can feel that way.
Read Morepretty pink clouds in a pale blue sky
an old sun crests those far off hills
old eyes squint in a brand-new light
on a brand-new day on a rock-faced mountaintop
though the forest feels foreboding
and the path is strewn with fear
though you stumble in cold darkness
and the way is so unclear
The hard rain had stopped, at least for a while. Reedy River was flooding the forest at the park. I had never seen that. As I got in my car, camera at my side, I mostly just wanted to take a look, to see what I could see from the middle of the pedestrian bridge, high over those flooding waters. At least, I hoped it was high over those flooding waters.
Read MoreMany feet have found their way, through those woods, along those trails … and stopped right here, as watchful eyes first see those wooden slats, that still quiet pond, and nature's splendor all around, lit up by morning sun.
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