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Images

by Dee Walmsley

Today my thoughts are interrupted by the noisy traffic on my street. How I miss the solitude of the country where the only sounds were those of the gentle songbirds singing their arias from dawn to dusk. Now the rising sun greets the whine of cars ferrying their passengers to work, like ants on a forest floor. The steady drone of gas engines and rubber meeting pavement overpowers nature’s symphonies. The woodland scents and colors are but visions in my mind.

I see images of uncut grass whispering in the wind, green fields, flecked with wild flowers, a painter’s palette of brilliant yellows, reds and white. Of air perfumed with pine, rose and honeysuckle. Images of rabbits hopping, mixing brown and green as they bounce through the grass to their burrows and of deer tails flashing, as they bound away into the woodlot.

My mind continues to conjure up images. A log cabin, smoke gently curling into the air from its stone chimney, welcomes the weary traveler. The smell of wet woolen mittens hanging near the hearth invades my nostrils bringing childhood memories back from the deep recesses of my mind. I am surrounded by the sounds of the saucy squirrels, downy woodpeckers and off on the lake, the mournful cry of the loon, enters my soul.

Sadly, they are only images, now contaminated as cars continue their endless pilgrimages polluting my mind and environment along the way. 

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