Kinds of Honey

Here is a collection of ponds.

Another place to walk. New shores with new outlines to follow. New patterns and textures to look over and feel.

Out there, just before sunset, watching the afternoon wind itself down, I might get all caught in nature.

I closed my cell phone. My mother and I had been talking over jobs, my future, the usual. But now, enough. I focused instead on the rustic perfection of fence lines.

The cattle, standing quietly near their watering hole.

The white scales on the ice’s surface.

And the always-loveliness of how water meets earth.

Reminding myself: Another day has gone along, and you, my dear, are alive and well. And so is your best friend.

And here, at the end of your walk, is one glorious tree.

Pointing you home.