A little bit of a waterfall along the lower trail in Kane Woods was ice free and a destination on a darkish day. The woods are very interesting on days like this, quiet, still. It’s a nice visit.
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I am adding this to this week’s “Five Sentence Fiction” with the keyword of “offering”.
I can hear a trickling sound, so loud in the quiet of the woods it seems to move about between the bare trees where honeysuckle and wildflowers had bloomed, now empty of leaves and flowers and berries it is full of detailed interest of branches and vines, and a light cover of snow. I follow the sound along the path down and down and down into the ravine and walk along the frozen slip of a waterway where I can hear it gurgling over the rocks and gravel under the ice. Tall trunks of trees rise straight up around me, and far above me their barren canopy of twigs melds with an unyielding overcast sky. In the dimming light I find at a bend in the little stream that a portion of ice has opened, offering a space for the water to flow freely if only for a short while, and the hushed gurgling becomes laughter as the water runs recklessly to the end of one rock and leaps off, and then another, splashing, without a care that it will soon slip under the ice again. On a brighter day it might have been the laughter of children, even of myself in these woods as a child, but in this quiet space the music is the moment.
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