It was a pleasant walk one early June morning into the pine woods that smelled sweet of fresh humus. The sun's blazes rising from the east looked so beautiful against the blue horizon that was mapped with floating cottony white clouds.
As I walked through the narrow path of fresh hooves engraved on wet earth by wild horses that frequented the area, the cool and jaunty breeze played on the bare skin of my face and arms. The path led to the east as evidenced by the prism of early morning sun rays sending quasars lurking deep through the tall and slender legs of pine trees. Cheerful birds sang their varieties of songs. It was their way of greeting the day and giving praises to the Almighty Creator who gives them the daily fresh morning to enjoy and feast upon. I imitated some tunes and watched them hop and fly from one tree branch to another, their colorful wings adding to the festive fashion of the newborn day.
Finally, I reached a clearing, the sun then gaining momentum to heat the earth proved by steam that slowly rose from the ground. Crystal dews interlaced among the leaves dropped as a sluggish wind brushed its way through. From a distance, I spotted more than a dozen of wild horses, some gaily playing while some lazily feeding on the short lush of greens.
To the North, where tree ferns with large fronds stood, was a herd of cows, some lying down while enjoying their cuds. Black mounds of what I call, "grass cakes" were scattered around the vicinity indicating that the group took an overnight rest in the clearing. ( I was tempted to think of going back to the place to collect the "grass cakes" --- a perfect part for a soil media).
As I continued to commune with the physical universe, I moved to a shade under an evergreen with leaves similar to that of a eucalyptus tree. I sat down on a boulder of lime rock under it and just watched the seemingly tired cows and horses. The lazy leaves of all sorts danced in mockery along the passing by of the gentle June breeze. An eagle soared high to the blue sky. Some May and June beetles crawled their way underground to hide from the preying eyes of birds that just finished their songs of praise and were by then scheduled to hunt for breakfast. Breathed the purest air. Listened to the hush of swishing pine trees from the other faces of the mountain. Gazed at the different wild and colorful flowers often visited by different arthropods.
Near where I sat was a wild rhododendron with beautiful pink flowers. I watched as a bee came for a sip then flew away, came another insect of the wasp family, flew away again until a small and frail white butterfly came along, perched for a moment then as it lifted its wings to say goodbye to the flower, a darting red-tailed purple dragonfly caught and flew away with it. Poor little guy! That's symbiosis anyway!
I glanced at my wristwatch, it was time for me to go back since the sun was starting to push the mercury up the scale as it began it's journey to mid-sky.
Thanks to that real June morning in the woods 16 years ago back in my dearest hometown. How I wish then that if I go home and trek the place would be the same. But I know it would just remain a wish, because that particular morning would never be the same. It would just stay as one of the clippings in my memory.
