August 8, 2022

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Sunday Night Nature

Somewhere I read that the greatest invention ever made  was  also the worst. That invention was the television and this time of year it’s especially true. Most people are content to park themselves in a chair for an entire weekend and watch nothing but football.  I can’t for the life of me find any interest in that, but as the old saying goes “to each his own”.

This Sunday evening as I  crept through the woods I thought of how rich I am. Not rich with money, no…. I’m far from that. Tonight I’m rich with life, rich with senses, with the experience of solitude,  that I’m one with my surroundings.  There’s an overcast sky, light drizzle falling, the fall colors paint a faint crimson hue where ever I look. Even the birch take on a reddish tinge tonight. The only sound is the creek down below, swollen from the recent rains. I snap a few pictures of a doe and her fawn working their way toward me through the forest. They don’t know I’m here even though I try not to mask my movement. I’m invisible, I feel invisible. I hear them long before I see them. I strain to look beyond the foggy mist for a glimpse. There, just above the treetops they break through. Their sound is one of the most beautiful songs I’ve ever heard, the song of winter. It always brings a smile of  “wow, amazing” to my face. Canada Geese, two groups of six flying in formation. They’re so close I can almost feel the whoosh of their wings as they pass.  The doe looks up….. what’s she thinking?  Does she  feel this moment as I do?

 

Sunday Night Football…….. no thanks.  I am indeed the richest man alive!