Monday, September 20, 2010
The way I decided to go home had no path. So, after taking this picture I continued to tramp my way through the brush and in doing so I bumped a limb of the tree. My bumping caused the dark, brown buckeyes to fall from their tan caskets, plunk, plunk to the ground.
"As I stood by the creek at dusk, the silhouette of a woman in a kayak came flowing my way. The last crease of the orange sun hovered on the horizon behind her. I spied the reflection of the planet Venus shimmering in the violet water before I saw it in the sky. The temperature was balmy. A translucent spider floated nearby at the end of an airborne silk strand. Nine geese in v-formation trumpeted as they soared overhead. When the woman got close enough for us to see each other's faces, she addressed me. "We win!" she exclaimed jubilantly, then paddled onward. I agreed. We were basking in a great victory, paradise having temporarily descended into our midst." Rob Brezsny