West Elk Mountains, Colorado

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.