I started my hike before sunrise, hoping to capture enough to last me.
The rain had just stopped,
“The trails will be a mess. Take a hat,” my husband warned.
I didn’t care about the muck or the wet.
I walked out. A sliver of a moon and high clouds filled the sky.
Entering the nature preserve, I turned on my flashlight.
My shoes crunched along until I meet up with a puddle, the width of the path.
I step into the high grass on the border of the trail and sink down.
The cold water fills my running shoe, but I squish on moving toward higher ground.
Once the sun is up, my senses are on overload. Birds hide amongst the barren limbs. Don’t they realize their song gives them away?
They flit off as soon as I come too close for comfort.
I walk on, and fragrant sage leans into the path.
Around the corner, I meet dewdrops clinging.
As the sun rises,
I’m surrounded by the buds,
waiting to open.
It is so hard to believe all is not well in the world when I’m in this place.
I’ll be back tomorrow.