Cruch Crunch

Saturday morning 3:45 am

Eschewing sleep

which will not come

I don my walking shoes

and wander into the dawn

no fast walk for me

just a steady pace

crunching along the dirt and gravel

one step at a time

crunch, crunch

left foot

right  foot

left foot

breathe

the cool morning air

not quite freezing

but close (34) on this summers morning in the highlands

brushes my face

as I walk through the shadow land

the pain that drove me here

driving me onward

the sky in indeterminate

marked by clouds

a deeper shade of purple

thin streaks in the sky

fringed with red

the promise of sunrise

still I walk

crunch, crunch

the air is silent

so silent

until, some where far away in the trees

a single bird sings a lonely song

chirping her lament

crunch, crunch

the sky lightens, gold glowing

warmer now

and so the world awakes

the raucous caws of magpies

joining the music

as robins and finches join in

a natural symphony that fills the air

dogs, now awake add percussion and depth

as does the hoot of an owl

here a horse, the a cow

bound through a pasture

bucking and twisting, fully alive

roosters have finally figured out that day has sprung

and still I wander

crunch, crunch

I slip off the road into my pasture to find

hidden and nestled a pair of fawns

who in the way of fawns simple stare at me from between

stalks of grass

a mother lark fresh from gathering

nervously slips into her bird house where hungry mouths await

slowly life stirs and wakes

and deep within

the spirit sings

a little weakly

and perhaps off key

but she/he tries

crunch .crunch

breathe