It beckoned me, this light at the end of the orchard.......stepped in, was ushered in, by the trees and the way the grass whispered.....
The last light of the sun touched the grass that whispered to flame......it held the light like magic.
And how can grasses and trees, I wondered, speak with such power?
I needed this walk, it fed my soul and how the light spilled and the mystery of what lay at the end, and what was spoken in between the steps to get there?
Closer, I came......
And then I turned in wonder.....my magical kingdom was only golden light on a brown field, but really, it was so much more.
It was an evening walk and the poetry of a simple orchard that spoke better things than words.....
