A Glimpse of the Ages

A cool breeze like the slightest graze of the recently passed flows under the shaded thickness of the ancient woods. The worn paths, sunken below the forest floor like water forgotten stream beds, slide naturally through this wooded sanctuary. Broken decaying trees rest upon the strong backs of the sun reaching ones, spreading their immense girth of leaves allowing the barest of rods of sunlight to illumin the undercarriage of this dense growth. Stillness presses on me, making me one and alone with this placid place. Ambering down the trail, knowing what every touch of movement and nuance of the environment means. In the distance all I see is trunks, like a never-ending collection of mirrors imposing their presence upon each other barely acknowledging my passing.