The 4pm sunlight is fresh & crisp.
The summer light is lifting, lightening.
All the forms of green tremble in the afternoon breeze.
Leaves tinted yellow pepper the green & some even dare to carpet the low hill.
Renegade curls of dried leaves crunch underfoot as I stroll.
Sunlight strong on the back of my neck.
The river dark & blue as I approach.
Yellow follows green (oh! orange follows yellow to be sure)
Crickets sing one song as the tall birch topped by sunlight sing another.
Shafts of sunlight illuminate the muddy bottom of the river.
Gulls speck the far side of the surface of the river with white spots.
Oh Wabi Sabi oh!

13 ducks work the water's surface, some upside down some right side up.
The shift in light shifts the sense of locale, all the while the wind whispers.
A small yellow butterfly dances before me for a while.
At a bend in the path the water turns green as it flows under the crooked willow tree with three twisted trunks.
I round the bend & smell the fall.
A moldy rocks lit by the sunlight glows under the water, like an ancient tablet.
Leaves float on the surface of the river, swirling in the current, with comrades joining them now & then from the trees on the other bank.
The little point of land that juts into the river flickers in the curtain of light & shadow.
The river's current makes jazzy shapes on the surface.
Two twisted trees, both black with the char of an old fire.