Mark another one off my Bucket List. The forest floor below the towering pines offers a padding or bed, if you will, of pine needles so thick that even in thirty degree weather, one will not feel the cold that has firmly gripped the ground. It's a reminder of the days of childhood long since faded off into the mist of adulthood oblivion. Today was that day.
How dreamy the moment is to lie on this bed of pine needles. The minute my head sank into their cushiony depths, the scent of pine wafted up and became an aroma that not only could put one almost to sleep but teased the nostrils with the tantalizing scent of nature at its purest. A pine thicket has a smell all its own. And oh the sounds one will hear here, as the trees blow gently in the wind, allowing the trunks to sing their own melody. Nature's violin. I've always loved to stop to listen as the trees cross trunks and branches to make their own stanza to the bow and the break of the breeze. This is a dreamy place. To lie on one's back and look up through the swaying canopy of green, the blue of the sky transforms into an image of topaz mixing with emeralds! Maybe I'm a hair on the dramatic side but this is the way my mind sees nature in all her glory.
I lay there and just tried to absorb it all. It's a place in time, I would like to stop still and just stay there. Stay there and hide from all worries and all care. There's a magical quality to the dimness of the thicket, especially when you look beyond the towering trunks to the outer edges. The hues of color seem to come alive and wake the senses!
The soul is not the only thing that will find shelter in such a place. If you sit quietly, and long enough, you will see others who find solace in the shelter of the pine thicket. Deer are in abundance here. Some resting, some munching on a patch of grass here and there and some simply meandering about with their fellow deermates. In the trees one can hear the call of the red-bellied woodpeckers. Shortly one will begin to hear the persistent sound of beak on wood as the red-belly searches out her lunch.
It's in the magic of the thicket that you will see the wonder of nature and so much that she has to offer. If you're quiet enough and wait long enough, the rewards of visiting here are simply too much for words. I invite you, find a thicket and let time slow down to a crawl. You might just come out of here feeling like you have a new lease on life.
Mark another one off my Bucket List. The forest floor below the towering pines offers a padding or bed, if you will, of pine needles so thick that even in thirty degree weather, one will not feel the cold that has firmly gripped the ground. It's a reminder of the days of childhood long since faded off into the mist of adulthood oblivion. Today was that day. 
How dreamy the moment is to lie on this bed of pine needles. The minute my head sank into their cushiony depths, the scent of pine wafted up and became an aroma that not only could put one almost to sleep but teased the nostrils with the tantalizing scent of nature at its purest. A pine thicket has a smell all its own. And oh the sounds one will hear here, as the trees blow gently in the wind, allowing the trunks to sing their own melody. Nature's violin. I've always loved to stop to listen as the trees cross trunks and branches to make their own stanza to the bow and the break of the breeze. This is a dreamy place. To lie on one's back and look up through the swaying canopy of green, the blue of the sky transforms into an image of topaz mixing with emeralds! Maybe I'm a hair on the dramatic side but this is the way my mind sees nature in all her glory. 
The soul is not the only thing that will find shelter in such a place. If you sit quietly, and long enough, you will see others who find solace in the shelter of the pine thicket. Deer are in abundance here. Some resting, some munching on a patch of grass here and there and some simply meandering about with their fellow deermates. In the trees one can hear the call of the red-bellied woodpeckers. Shortly one will begin to hear the persistent sound of beak on wood as the red-belly searches out her lunch.
No comments:
Post a Comment