Trail Wood: Moments in September

First light, I step into the clear, cold, still September morning, quiet, but for the birds' restlessness...

Robins chipping, catbirds murmuring in the underbrush, blue jays calling in the distance and
red-bellied woodpeckers dining on woodbine. Grass drips with dew and pale sunlight touches the trees, leaves hovering between the deep green of summer and the colors of autumn, suspended in time.

Many of the meadow flowers have finished blooming, seed heads slowly drying. The fields belong to the goldenrods and grasses now, Indian grass and the bluestems, myriad shades of brown and gold, subtle, muted beauty... beauty of abundance found in seeds and sheltering stalks, already providing for the coming, leaner season.

Sleek, well-fed and rested, she stands, poised in silence, almost invisible in the meadow grasses. Catching sight of me, she startles and bounds effortlessly towards the woods, white tail flagging, beauty in motion, quickly gone.

It rises lazily, taking its time, lighting the treetops, bathing the meadows in white,

extinguishing stars in its brightness. Daylight, at midnight, stretches across the land.
True katydids call slowly in the chill, enunciating each syllable, "Ka-ty-did," "Ka-ty."
Tree crickets, mimicking spring's toad chorus, fill the fields with song, each trilling a different pitch.

Peace permeates the sanctuary tonight...nurturing, strengthening, enfolding...
Trail Wood beneath the harvest moon.