Early Morning Walk
Took a walk early this morning before the dogs were even up .So beautiful down back right now .
Walked out my door and the aroma hit me , the smell of Apples and musty Earth . Cool damp air on my skin.Headed down the path , leaves crunching under foot , leaves scurrying along with the breeze ahead of my step .Sky blue , clouds white . Birds calling their morning song . Coffee in hand ,I check the field...Deer beds are empty, still steaming from their warmth , hmmm, must have just left to start their day .Furter I go and the Squirrels are complaining ,that I am present in their world . I smile and continue toward the brook, at the hardwood ridge , leaves of many colors carpet the ground and remind me of the colorfull patch work quilt my Grandmother made,I sit for a moment and watch them fall, coffee cup warming my hands . I hear the distant snap of brush that I know too well , the deer are at the brook for their Morning drink . Raven comes and sits high in the pine , he calls and the Deer know I am here . Their white tails are UP and they run the path to the logging road to the hill on the opposite side .I listen to the water rushing over the rocks for a minute before I turn toward home . I save the last bit of my coffee for the walk back . Tired ...I reach the house and hear Raven call , He followed me home , I smile and nod . Wood fire burning fresh coffee brewing , warm kitchen...Life is good .
Walked out my door and the aroma hit me , the smell of Apples and musty Earth . Cool damp air on my skin.Headed down the path , leaves crunching under foot , leaves scurrying along with the breeze ahead of my step .Sky blue , clouds white . Birds calling their morning song . Coffee in hand ,I check the field...Deer beds are empty, still steaming from their warmth , hmmm, must have just left to start their day .Furter I go and the Squirrels are complaining ,that I am present in their world . I smile and continue toward the brook, at the hardwood ridge , leaves of many colors carpet the ground and remind me of the colorfull patch work quilt my Grandmother made,I sit for a moment and watch them fall, coffee cup warming my hands . I hear the distant snap of brush that I know too well , the deer are at the brook for their Morning drink . Raven comes and sits high in the pine , he calls and the Deer know I am here . Their white tails are UP and they run the path to the logging road to the hill on the opposite side .I listen to the water rushing over the rocks for a minute before I turn toward home . I save the last bit of my coffee for the walk back . Tired ...I reach the house and hear Raven call , He followed me home , I smile and nod . Wood fire burning fresh coffee brewing , warm kitchen...Life is good .
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