Around me, the wind blows And I can hear the faint sound of leaves brushing against each other. The brush of leaves mixed with the blow of the bullfrog and the babble of the river is the ebb of melody - a natural song.
as the sun fades
As the sun fades into the unknown,I am sitting on the bank in this meditative hour.The last remaining light lays softon the waters of the Bitterroot River.Soon the moon will cast its glow on them.This moment is rare.As sure as I am of life, I am sure this momentwill not last.No more than any moment …
Dixie's Road Trip 