An Excerpt from A Book

I have an unwritten book.  It's stored in my head and one day I hope to have it all down on paper.  There are excerpts from it scratched down and the leaves stored loosely in a folder on the shelf.  Today I share a short one with you:

Songs of the Wood

As the spongy, leaved carpet gives way to my steps, a sweet and spicy fragrance is released into the air.  Its incense awakes happy, childhood memories from somewhere deep inside.  I used to call it "the smell of Vershire" when I was a young girl.  Only at Grammy and Grandpa's house would I experience this woodsy sweetness, though I spent a great deal of time exploring any woods that afforded themselves to me.  

As I travel deeper amongst the gathering trees the crack of small branches are heard.  They rhythmically sound off like the tic toc of a timepiece on the mantle.  These sticks have escaped the eye of my mom, as she makes her daily trek, carefully gathering the fallen boughs into extremely neat piles placed alongside the pathway.  I walk against the east side of a once-broken down stonewall, likely laid there by my own forefathers in their attempt to clear the land for sowing potatoes or corn, and for the dual purpose of fencing in their livestock.  My brother, Dennis, has dutifully unearthed the rocks and rebuilt the sturdy structure; each stone laid with purpose and care that this wall will be standing for generations to come.  I sit on an end capstone and listen to the songs of the wood.

There is a rustling which becomes ever louder as the stillness around me magnifies the sound.  I will stay to see what will appear over the knoll.  As my ear focuses upon this sound, it seems to move closer, though staying shrouded behind a stand of spruce or low beneath the hillock.  My patience grown thin, I stand and stretch myself to gaze beyond the edge of the hill.  There, a small chipmunk is rooting busily in a large pile of leaves; digging here then there.  "You're a noisy little guy", I say aloud as he eyes me warily, then resumes his business at hand.  He obviously has lot of work ahead of him in preparation for a long underground stay.  I can't quite make out what he is stuffing into his puffy cheeks, so I study the trees above him and I settle on beechnut.

The sun has slid lower in the sky and its light filters through the flitting leaves, casting shimmering dots along and beside my path.  I will continue to stroll along this starry path until I reach the clearing in the field below.

Friends, I hope that your day is full of surprises and that your senses will be awakened as Fall begins to descend upon us all.