every day i go
into the woods, the same woods
and yet….
*
i look around—
this must surely be heaven
and i bow down
*
i look around
and say, why—why is this all
so beautiful?
*
and then
i say to myself, who cares
….it just is
Step by step up the long, long Bells Mill Hill, my senses slowly awaken, brimming with autumn—the colors, the smells, the sounds underfoot and all the way up among the trees. I have to take a picture, I said to myself, and bring it home. I could die happy right now.
That things are the same is reason to be grateful. That things are never the same is also reason to be grateful—beauty is beauty. Before I die, I hope to see the beauty in everything.
