As Autumn has slipped upon the morning's essense, lush green is giving way to
golden hues, and crispy shades of rust and ochre, crows dominate the sound sphere.
Squirrels are silent today, their hickory nuts largely shelled and hidden. The owl's fleeting visits and early morning howls, blue sky turning white and smell of distant rain on the way, cool on the tip of my nostrils, as I ponder Life and Death, and the mysterious process of entering full maturity and transition.
The glow of fire is heart warming, and Autumn's golden orb, the Sun blazes like a feiry golden orb behind the hillside, illuminating treetops, and warmth exudes as leaves flicker in the trickling light and shapes of branches. Tree trunks tell the stories of ageless births and rebirths in this season of maturation and death.
Rich soils support ivy and evergreen ground covers reminding of the fact that Life goes on, and is vibrant and eternal. As trees stand silent amid a chirping of a songbird hidden deep in the forest, I listen. The swoosh of traffic in the far distance is like a river of white noise. Crows caw stereophonically hidden in nearby surroundings.
I sit quietly, bemused by the omnipresent livingness that surrounds me, in my Silence.
10/23/12 9:00 a.m.
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