A dead pigeon, flattened & decomposing, with left wing spread out, like a fallen angel, with flies crawling over it's carcass.
The smell of Juniper before the bush itself, peppered with dusty pale berries.
I feel the sun drawing a line down the center of my back.
The river is flat & grey as steel.
The sky darkens & flattens out as well, as rain is more than certain somewhere in the future.
Three seagulls fly through a gap in the trees lining the banks of the river.
The mountain looks blue squatting in the distance.
A butterfly whirls by as I descend the small hill.
Two orange butterflies dance together above the long grass.
Crickets chirp, not close, but not far either.
Yellow yarrow flowers pepper the woods.
Thick, humid air hugs the path.
Distant thunder beats out an approaching rhythm.
Burgundy Sumac pods bounce in the breeze.
Ducks bobbing upside down near the bank of the river.
Two bulldogs & a grey pit-bull pass me on the path.
Dry fallen leaves crunch underfoot.
The river darkens to match the sky.
Heron shit, greenish-greyish maybe litters the small point of land that pokes into the green river.
A giant carp, maybe 1/2 meter long, slowly floats under the surface of the water.
Bubbles rise up marking something.
A heron, in the distance, on a fallen branch that angles down into the water.
I see a vertical bank of rain clouds far off, above the rapids.
A grey squirrel chides me from the trunk of a tree at the same time thunder rumbles somewhere.
The storm seems to be coming in fast.
Waves, with whitecaps, scallop the surface of the river.
The birches sway hard.
Lightening snaps above the far shore.
The rain never arrives, but carries onwards towards the East.
Later the sun returns to set things right for sunset.