(Gallery Featured Below)
The invisible wind whistles through
long jagged cracks
in the rocks forged by ice
long since departed,
as the eagle resting nearby takes notice,
only slightly amused -
he’s heard it all before.
Secluded in nature's canopy
exist winding, twisting paths -
dividing dense armies of
Washington’s evergreen and spruce -
but they lead to nowhere,
confusing some who enter here.
Just over there,
fragile flowers blossom quietly,
their roots cling
to cliffs' edges,
straining to get the best view of the show -
but the mountain lion rules here.
In streams far below,
nestled neatly in valleys which
those stoic warriors of recent winter snows,
they babble cheerfully,
their playful nature masks their deadly reach
when spring rains come.
All in view of Route 20.
~ Bill Breneman ~