Summer Wind
by Joy Slesinger
The air is heavy and warm, saturated with the sweet earthy scent of pine, moss, and flowers. The rhododendrons give the trail a jungle-like feel with their glossy dark green leaves. This deep green backdrop creates a beautiful contrast to the muted green of pine needles, the serene blue-green of lichen, and the impossibly bright lime green of moss. The light streaming through the trees is green, too. Green and gold as it filters through leaves rustling in the wind, creating magical light shows across the forest floor.
The Circle of Talking Trees
by Kristin Johnson Falling Tree
Before me is a seat of Rock
The trees did call me in to talk
To join the mighty and be as one
Under the morning clouds and sun
Terra, The Forest Pixie
by Nancy Longman
To commemorate my first official soul walk, I created a painting.
The painting was created in layers. It evolved organically. Preliminary layers were words to express feelings when I was on the walk or maybe a song lyric that "popped in". Layers of color were added. Abstract and basic shapes representing beings or movement in the forest were playfully painted on the canvas.
Montreat Rain
by Elizabeth Bridges
Original music inspired by rain-sun-rain pattern that dominates so many May mornings in Montreat.
Onward I Go
by Marion Bolding
I arrive. Heritage Shores Nature Preserve.
My heart is heavy. My breath is shallow. My body is tense. I walk.
I keep walking. A bright red cardinal leading the way…
In Acknowledgment
by Deanna Raymond
All that has gone before
Footprints across this land
The bounty of woods and pond
River and field
Turtle Mandala
by Catherine Fannon
Several weeks ago vulture told me he would pick the bones of my old self. So when he flew over as I headed out toward the trails, I followed vulture on the first part of my walk. When I was indecisive, vulture appeared…
The Restorative Power of Nature
by Regan Stacey
I must confess, I sing to the trees. They don’t judge. I think the nearby squirrel had something to say, but between her and the dense mist dripping from the trees, all was silent between the notes of my voice. Slowly as I walked, I could hear the distant wash of water over stone, where Burnham Brook babbled and had stories to tell…
Ode to a Giant
by Dee Mueller
At the entrance to a magical wood
A behemoth, once, majestically stood
Tattered and torn, she holds her ground
In a thousand bones, just lying around
She comes from a time when giants roamed free…