The Wondrous Spectacle

In late March one starts thinking of spring with those cherry blossoms that a few days ago were small buds, but frost kept them from blooming and show their splendor; would a fierce wind disperse them? In a remote forest, there are firs that cast shadows over paths; from far one hears a horse snorting as his hooves clip-clop, wanting to stop and refresh by the tiny pound swarming with docks and they are startled by his neighing and swim away. I look up to measure the distance between me and the firs' branches, and waving they let sun rays gleam; a hummingbird lands a few feet from me as he warbles cheerfully. I decide to take an afternoon nap and lay on a bed made of fresh leaves, above sunlight filters through the gaps between the long branches tinted with the orange pollen of hibiscus; I sneeze twice frightening a squirrel that is chewing on a bunch of walnuts that someone has dropped intentionally. Dusk comes and I am still napping heavily, someone coming from the opposite path warns me of snakes crawling at this hour, " You don't want to get bitten by one of them! " I get up still day-dreaming and thank him; and following the same path, I took before, I head home admiring the wondrous spectacle.