The Forest

The trees are tall and all around. The water trickles over the rocks in a low gurgle and the sun beams filter down through the canopy of foliage. It’s a beautiful spring day and the woods are alive with the chirping of birds and the low rustle of squirrels scurrying underfoot. A playful breeze tousles the tree tops, sending shadows whirling across the ground in a kaleidoscope of color. The water is cool beneath my touch, though the face of the stones is warm from the sun. All is gentle movement. Nowhere is it still, except perhaps the base of the trees. Sticks crackle underfoot and pebbles shift with playful delight. I can almost hear the clomp of a horse passing through and the whicker of its passage. Its coat gleams burnished chestnut in the golden rays of the sun, and no shadow dulls its sheen. Beautiful, majestic being, it steps carefully among the rocks, wearing new trails out of the wild woods.