A Collection of Wanderings

In a rural New York meadow on a dewy sunrise expedition, stands an established community of North American natives.  A gathering of citizens blooming, growing, and dying together, each preparing for the next season.  The dandelion still stands, waiting for a wish.  The goldenrod and milkweed make their last showy stand sending their children into the wind.  The grasses bend to whisper policy to the blueberry brambles, already changing their wardrobe of leaves in celebration of fall.  The sugar maple shakes loose her fiery coif.  The entire congregation enacting the parliamentary procedures of autumn.

With my out-of-place orange bucket, I enter the settlement quietly to witness nature’s industry, seeking to be imprinted with the scene, the smell of malt and rot, and the soft melody of the field. As the wildlings shed themselves, I recruit a few of the outstanding greenfolk promising their kin, that they will flourish in my keeping.