the fall forest

        Yesterday, I treated myself to a dose of autumn—to the bright warm sun, crisp biting air, and dry crunchy leaves.  As I enjoyed the wonders of nature, I let my worries of the future fall away and focused on the sounds, smells, and sights around me.  I couldn’t help but marvel at each patch of moss and mushrooms, at the colorful leaves rustling in the trees and beneath my feet, the twittering birds, hooting owls, and the running water of the creek.  Walking the last stretch of trail, I spread lovingkindness to myself, to my family and my friends, to those I had met along the path, and to all the beings in the world.  I felt myself quiet even further.  When I stepped into my car and started the engine, the motor rumbled loudly, and the radio shouted news of war and politics.  I turned off the radio and rolled down the windows as I reentered civilization, trying to hold on to the quiet I had found once again in the fall forest.

A lattice of roots.

Creek view.

A trail for hiking.

Golden leaves.

Turning.

A bumper crop of mushrooms.