Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Pastoral Peace

Such ceaseless bucolic pleasures this summer. I'm a baby in the cradle each time I encounter the countryside. My physiological rhythms eventually slow to the fastest thing around me. The leaves respond to the wind and each with a different call. Cattail leaves, oak leaves, tall grasses with rattling tops. In concert, these movements create a wash of calm that blankets and hums me to daily sanity.

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