Many a woods I have walked, nothing serious or deep, though on such days as this the sprouting of the concrete still gives one the creeps of what is to come – one rests easy knowing that there will always be a small patch of Ents nearby where we live to rest our eyes a little from the incessant glow of the monitors.
Though the lovely little streams cut through the soft wellvety of the grass, is from careful examination on previous excursions, turn out to be a drain running away from the town; at a distant though in the setting sun, when after an day’s hard labor: wrestling with the numbers and the countless receipts of Gatorade and Cheerios or distant places where our some of our favorite western men were first doing in the sheriff and then getting the Marshall, the scene close at home lends it rustic charm to our weary eyes, the glint from the silvery stream and the turf with good horses and cows and on the right a group of the woolly sheep graze, turning a little we see the fine path leading up to the graves and then the horizon of trees; now though the blinding light from the evening gives me a little warmth for my eyes, now not blind from having recovered with the dose of the cool light.
The round leaves of the distant trees shimmer in blotches of greens and the branches glow a mild pearly white in places as the rays bounce off them, there is more to this place.
On sunny days one almost remembers the open fields which had long ago had been terraced or perhaps naturally contoured as such with the clear relief of a gently sloping, clouds puffing up from behind them and the clump of trees on the one side a good woods for one to behold and perhaps better for the rare few on the other side who live there, mighty birds had soared there, I remembers, good birds of the old kind who with their rare visits to our view had brought a sense of depth to our adventurous minds, many a exciting emotions within us to see the brown creatures at the distant, and the horses, exciting creature at our eye level at the distant grazing about too, those days of a different kind of fun, reality of a different kind, now other kids in various good spaces live them.
Thinking if I should watch the new shark movie or go back in search of the woods.
One of my recent paintings on a cold day