Where the Flowers Meet the Road

Location

The sun wakes the neighborhood, bouncing off the black shingled rooftops.

I close my eyes.

Inhale.

 And start my descent down the paved hill from my doorway.

Morning sounds attack my weary ears, as I attempt to shake the residual fog from my slumber.

The wind blows leaves, which scrape along.

Bird’s melodies pierce the air.

Off in the distance I can hear the gentle hum of early traffic.

I reach the end of the sidewalk and step into the unpaved pathway.

My brown leather boots are immediately incased in the awaiting mud.

A layer of it gathers around the soles, as I hike.

I pass by piles of plywood, work tools, and construction equipment.

Yellow caution tape lining the site flaps in the wind.

The bulldozer’s tires are caked in mud from previous days.

I can see it now.

Off up ahead and around the bend.

The first ones are shin high, and sparse.

Their centers are deep chocolate colored circles dusted with copper on the very top.

Bright yellow petals radiate from them.

Prickled green stems trail down and into the roots of the plants.

Spade shaped leaves fill in the gaps.

With every step, they get taller and more abundant. 

I reach the bend.

Yellow stars fill the landscape.

I walk off the path and become enveloped.

The tallest tower feet over me, their bright crowns reaching for the sun.

Tiny seedlings fill in the trail.

Every step I take causes an array of other movement.

Grasshoppers, flies, bees, and birds.

All amongst the flowers.

I shade my eyes from the sun as it peeks in and out of the loftiest stalks.

I continue, until all I can see is thousands of crowns of the flowers.

I wait for a moment.

Close my eyes.

Inhale.

Unity, tranquility, serenity.

I open my eyes and wander out of the sea of stalks.

Back on to the muddy trail.

Around the bend.

Through the construction site.

Onto the sidewalk.

And up to my front door.

I turn to see first sunflowers in the distance, and smile.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Comments

amaiersperger

Enjoy the moment.

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