Going Home
The evening breezes fell quietly on the grassy ridge. Small patches of snow lingering beneath the branches of larger trees, and hiding in the shadows, gave reminders of the long winter. Far below, the river ran quietly as the last warm colors of evening reflected in the cold water. The distant ridge fell slowly behind the evening's shadow and I watched as the world grew quiet. Far above my head, the sound of flight reached my ears as I witnessed nine geese journeying to their spring home, a destination of natural instinct. The graceful silhouettes flew quietly out of sight as dusk engulfed the valley and even the shadows began to disappear. Only the faintest light on the horizon remained to illuminate this quiet and beautiful place.
Thanks for reading,
Justin