There is a chill in the meadow that echoes my thoughts.
The frost lays heavy and hard across the land.
I wait while leaning against an old oak.
Watching.
A murder of crows breaks the morning quiet.
I wonder what set them off.
They circle in the east and fly off over the silver meadow.
I wait.
Eventually they come one by one out of the forest.
Searching silently.
Morning breaks and they disappear back into the brush.
The day begins.
Very nicely described. I wanted to be there.
ReplyDeleteNice buck!! Frost in the meadow is beautiful!
ReplyDeleteWhat an inspiring start to the morning!
ReplyDelete