To Walk Away

While out on an afternoon walk, I stopped near a stand of long-needle pines to soak in a little winter sun.  The sage and juniper and pine are presently free of snow, but snow remains in patchwork fashion across the terrain.

I thought about bluebirds as I stood there looking out over rumpled, wintery landscape.  Bluebirds will be returning at some point next month.  Their return is meaningful to me.  They carry spring on their electric-blue wings.

A breeze sieved through the pines as I stood there with the sun feeling like a warm arm resting on my shoulders.  My mind, which refuses to tether to one thing for long, soon fixed on the murmuring sound of the wind caught in the branches above me.

If you listen to wind in pine trees for long enough, you begin to hear whispering voices there.  The trick is to walk away before the voices make sense to you.

—Mitchell Hegman