Through the Woods

Charles W. Ward Reservation, Andover, Massachusetts   

Late spring or early summer ?
Leaves are still young, bright, perfect.
  Mingling through the woods. Dancing with the shadows in light breeze.

Grasses are taller, do not allow cross-walks any more.
  And the rocks would not mind.
    Ready, as usual, for my boots.

Arriving to the beaver's pond, an artwork of a primeval engineer.
 Where all is worked-out without touching anything.
  Or so IT feels.
  Some trees were sacrificed. All the rest came by nature. Bringing water to those who need IT.
 
  Yet meant for a beaver... 

Friendly

Great Brook Farm State Park, Massachusetts   

 Quite warm today, summery...
  I can hear birds up in the crowns and the insects flying around.
   The leaves go along...

  Just about to pass this boulder and a chipmunk appears in the split.
   Watching curiously...
  We come closer and she is still there, with these widely opened eyes, trying to figure our next move.
   There is this feeling that she is on alert, but wants to stay as long as we are here.
 
   So we stay and she stays, looking at each other... 

Making IT Through

 Daniel Webster Wildlife Sanctuary, Massachusetts    

The meadows where Bobolinks come each spring to raise their families.
  While other birds find their ways through flowering thickets.
 
  A deer sees us and takes off. How graceful !!

The Indians and Colonists had lived off of this piece of land for a long time.
 The place where a river comes to meet with the Ocean.
  High tides used to push the river back, making some parts unsuitable for farming.
 
So, in 1872, the farmers pressed for the project to build a dike to prevent the Ocean moving inland.
  And this was the dawn of these meadows.
Born out of human willpower, they have become living homes of all those who need them for survival.

  Bobolinks send their thanks...

 

A Point of View

Wachusett Mountain State Reservation, Massachusetts   

 I can see Wachusett from the Drumlin in Lincoln.
 Not that far away from Fair Heaven Hill,
  from where Thoreau looked at the mountain and contemplated about that blue rim of the earth.

 The times have changed but the mountain still stands as the lookout of the state.
 The point where many come for the views of distant places.
 
 To the south, north, west, and east. It is all there when the skies are blue.
 
 And then there is a sudden desire to climb to the top and look around...