Country Road

I am never alone when I walk down a country road.

The soft mist of the morning settles around my shoulders like an old friend’s embrace.  Trees sing to creation as only oaks and pines can do, lifting their branches to the sky,  hoping to dance with a passing breeze.  Earth glistens in colors and textures that elude canvas or camera.  I stop to listen to no sound at all, to draw in the sweet fragrance of wet leaves, golden and red carpets spread over thick green grass.   A gentle vibration swirls in the air, as if a hand has plucked the single string of perfection.

I am blessed by all that calls to me along a country road.