The Magic of the Woods as Time Stands Still

I pushed myself out into the woods surrounding my home as the sun warmed the earth early this afternoon.  And felt alive.  When I woke up this morning it was just above freezing and I covered my chilly toes with pink slippers and snuggled a fuzzy sweater over my shoulders as I put the kettle on for tea.  But now with a blue sky the color of the Caribbean Sea protecting from high above, the colors of autumn shine like gemstones, plentiful hanging from the limbs of bush trees and in all shades of red and orange, sometimes yellow and green.  But it's the striking ghost-like bark of the birch trees as the backdrop that pulled my attention in as I walked in the woods this morning at my dog's happy sniffing pace.  The cool, dry air and the vision of leaves still clinging to life while many have fallen, now dry and the color of the surrounding dirt, remind me that, I too, am of the earth.  And always changing.  What matters most is that I remember.  I can only hear the wise and always perfect counsel offered right out my front door,  if I open my heart wide.  A twinge of what is, what was and what might be.  The smiles, the sorrow, the pain and the absolute joy of life.  The magic of the woods makes time stand still and serves as my muse.