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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The luxuriously full And richly green trees Were in their best form In this part of the forest. A spot untouched by Civilization, possibly never Treaded on by a human foot. Until now. Only the deer had left Her prints in the sandy creek bed. The birds had stopped singing. It was Cold dark silent here. In the glen, with Barely a bit of sunlight illuminating my path. I did not realize at first what was so different, Until I noted this place was bereft of bird song. The gentle lapping creek was flowing softly Over some beautiful tiny beads of river rock, Arranged in a haphazard manner of fall where You may. I sat down and studied the rocks, picked Up a few, rubbed the water off them, and put them Into my pockets. It was fascinating to see there were tiny minnows In the stream. Even more enthralling when you surmise That I may be the first person on the earth to see them. The only indicators of any other living creature being here Were the two deer hoof-prints. About ten yards away from the stream I spied a Downed tree; a magnificent beast, with an enormous Circumference. When she fell, I imagine the forest floor Quaked. She had been down for some time. I made my way to the silent giant by way of Spongy forest floor. You could hear my footprints, The forest was so still. I waked gingerly expecting An enormous snake’s head to rear up at any Possible minute. I am relieved to say, I walked without Altercation, or any other kind of surprise. When I reached the tree, I noted that I could Not get my arms around the trunk. My arms Stretched as far as they would go, would not Fit half-way around this monster’s trunk. There was a bit of sunlight hitting the tree, so I grabbed ahold of a downed limb and pulled Myself up onto her side. I was sitting on that Mighty oak in short time. But the bark was so Harsh, I jumped off when Blue, my husky came Tearing around the corner. Lucky, my gentle Newfoundland-mixed dog, returned About the same time. They had been in the deep Timber, so I knew I’d be tearing ticks off the both Of them when we got back to the house. Yes, this Was my timber, my woods, My glen, my fallen oak. My Husband and I had marveled At this land when we came Across it the first time. The Brush was so deep, we Bashed it with sticks as we Walked through it. The Spider webs back in here Were amazingly large. My own secluded hide away. And no one would have been happier.
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