I’ll walk this path, rather than drive, to feel the earth beneath my feet –
soft moist soil, grass
solid immovable rock
crackling twigs and
crispy fallen leaves
I want to hear the sounds of the forest, not the engine of my car –
rushing breezes through the conifers
rustling aspen leaves
calling ravens high above and
trickling streams below
I want to smell nature’s aroma, not the exhaust from burned gasoline
fresh pine
sweet wild rose
wet woody wood and
a wiff of deer musk
I want to see natural color, not the bugs on a windshield, no plastic, no ink
golden sunlight glistening
deep cobalt skies unending
living greens beaming and
ancient stones layering
I want to know what’s around that bend ahead –
another bend? What’s around it?
a meadow of flowers?
grazing wildlife?
expansive peak vista?
Walk with me, let our
souls do the talking
minds do the wandering
senses do their discovering
spirits do their flying.
West Elk Mountains
Colorado
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