My sea of trees has a misty mountain top.
A layer of cloaked sky over glaciated rock.
The owl hoo’s and the warbler’s melodic calls no longer audible beneath the roil of open sky.
Rain for days.
Grey and heavy with unknown, as far as the eye can see.
Saturation drowning cotyledon green.
A respite from weather calls aloud, but a longing rainy-day soul wins.
When my mountain top is misty, I find a quietness to my days. A hot cup of thermos’ed coffee on my forested slopes reminds me why I live this wild little life of mine. A simplicity to the days and an ease to life.
The black bean soup slowly cooks in the crock-pot, while my hands find themselves busy, in my little garage shop.
Finding a hum to my drum,
and creating magic from motion.
I come from water.
These misty mountain days allow me to reconnect with slowness.
Motion with tranquility.
Movement with grace.
Sound with song.
While my sun-fueled self longs for the time of the solstice, my tendency towards solitude rejoices in these misty mountain days.
Rain brings growth,
coolness calms the fire,
an elevation of saturation,
brings ethereal notions to the forefront.
My misty mountain top is a sanctuary of self. A temple of the trees and truly heaven on earth. A presence in time and space allows the soul to begin anew. As I sit in the presence of this majesty of nature, I know that time will reward trust in the good. Just as I came from water, so does this.