It's almost 3 am here. The rain has finally past, and everything has a clean, fresh smell. The sky is clearing with bits of cloud, a waning moon, and little snippets of stars here and there. Way, way down in the hollow, Beaver Dam creek is bubbling over the rocks on it's way to the Green river. I'm sitting in the back yard in a lounger, with a nice latte' and old Big'un sleeping beside me. It's almost timeless, getting the feeling that centuries ago, the Native Americans and early explorers may have seen and heard these same things, and felt the peace of merely sitting in nature's bosom....
Then the airplane flies over right through my line of sight while looking at the stars, and the moments gone.
Stupid airplanes!
Then the airplane flies over right through my line of sight while looking at the stars, and the moments gone.
Stupid airplanes!