It’s like any other walk through the woods. Light from a westward sun attempts to breach the canopy. It succeeds only in scattering illumination and shadow on the dirt path under our feet. The full fragrance of forest envelops us: Pine, Maple, Chestnut, Oak. Everywhere, the competing songs of robins, sparrows and Jays.
Look, and we will not see deer grazing, as we do in our backyard from our deck in the morning. Listen, and we do not hear the pounce of panther or the skirmishing bark of fox or coyote confronting pray. Only the scampering of squirrels up trees and chipmunks through underbrush. Only the birdsong and cicada chorus.
And yet we encounter a Presence whose undeniable reality defies easy names or pat labels. When we are silent and still in this Presence, we come away refreshed and renewed. We will then return to our lives beyond the woods, only to return soon again.
For a walk like any other through the woods.
flickering light
through trembling leaves
high summer
for Sue Vincent’sย Thursday photo prompt: Track #writephoto
Frank J. Tassone 
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