The honey tones of autumn bloom upon the leaves and aging meadows. Slender wheat tipped grass brush the fields as the early morning breeze sweeps through the valley. Had I not awaken that Saturday with a sense of restlessness I would not have witnessed autumn’s subtle beauty. In these parts the days are still warm with evenings that tickle at the mere fancy of chilly weather. Because of said restlessness, I don my Nikes, strapped on my camera and ventured beyond my threshold.
There’s a pretty sort of wilderness, an island of trees and grass, in the middle of suburbia that my mind turned towards. Fortunate for me it was within walking distance.
The morning air brought respite. As my feet tread pavement, I grew more anxious to reach the destination. In my mind’s eye, I saw the familiar cluster of trees, the overgrown grass where dog owners threw frisbees–nothing exceptional about this bit of nature surrounded by apartment complexes and cookie-cutter homes.
But I’ve never explored it.
Once I arrived and my feet stepped upon it’s terrain, I left behind the suburb and entered the woods.
Immediately all was silence but for the rustling of weeds and leaves. As I ventured further into the fold, a squirrel scurried from behind a tree only to halt at my approaching steps.
I had entered another kingdom, for I spied leaves of gold, dangling from low-hanging branches; miniature sunburst flowers fit for woodland fairies and fell logs for toadstools and gnomes.
A gnarled, spindly-branched tree–soulless and eerie–lay abandoned like a haunted house.
The canopy above glistened with sparkling rays of light.
Had it not been for my inner self urging me to seek out beauty and inspiration, I would not have experienced the pleasure this woodland kingdom generously bestowed upon me.
All images © 2013 Sriprae P. McDonald