Cricket in my path.
Pine sap sticky on my fingers.
Crickets chirping.
Lone duck quacking.
River blurbling.
Weeds flowing.
Heron fishing.
Bugs drowning.
Fish jumping.
Sun setting.
Wet weeds as thick as winter boots wrapped around my feet & ankles.
Light fading.
Skies blushing.
No wind, not even in the leaves of the tattle-taling silver birch.