Deep into the Shawungunk Mountains there is a long winding trail that descends into a mystical clearing. The trail is overgrown with blueberry bushes, and a tangy, sweet scent mixed with the crisp smell of pine lingers in the air. In the clearing the sun beats down upon a large, flat, stone surface, and further ahead a stream flows quickly, creating a liquid staircase. The water runs under a rickety old bridge, the wooden planks already somewhat rotten. A canopy of all different shades of green and brown lay behind the waterfall. Birds sing cheerful little melodies, but they are never spotted. Except for the hawks that soar high above the trees, in the open skyway, which is a magnificent blue, a blue that can only be captured in the eyes of an innocent child. Tiny chipmunks scramble through the dead leaves and pine needles, while deer wander quietly through the tall grass, leaving behind a trail of hoof marks. A soft breeze whispers in your ear, the water sparkles begging you to taste it, and the warmth you feel against your skin is like a mother’s embrace. Time does not exist in this place, only beauty and pure thoughts reside here. |
Submission Name: Blueberry Patch
