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Left Foot, Right Foot
~ let’s take a walk ~

I inhale, and my senses blaze to life.
I exhale, and the world’s detail rushes through me.
The ground is spongy underfoot, saturated with rain. Today’s song is made of my breath, the subtle crunch of tiny twigs, and the rare whisper of falling leaves.
Stillness after yesterday’s storm.
The cool air is somehow cozy, rich with the cedary sweet scent of home.
I feel held.
Left foot, right foot.
My body moves differently now. Less elephant, more cat.
I feel like I’m gliding, carving through the field before me. For a moment, I imagine sinewy tendrils of golden light spilling from my fingers, dancing a trail behind me.
Left foot, right foot.
I come upon fallen branches. Not large enough to block the way, but enough to be noticeable, or an obstacle if you’re on wheels. I always clear these branches. I know the gesture is small, but I enjoy the quiet act of tending something that isn’t mine.
I pause at the long, slim tree that fell recently, feel a flash of frustration that I can’t move it on my own, conceding that at least four hands are needed.
The ground changes from dirt to gravel, then back again.
I prefer the dirt.
Left foot, right foot.
I reach the resting log, just beyond the maple doorway.
Smoke dances into the air, twining with sunbeams.
The moss I’m seated on dampens my pants, but holds me. A fair trade.
I love what comes next the most.
Ten stumps thoughtfully placed in a half-moon so you can skirt the spot that floods during the winter months. Each time I walk the stumps, pretending I’m a pirate, I say thanks to the mystery human who tended to something that wasn’t theirs.
Left foot, right foot.
I gaze up through the yellowing leaves, so golden, so bright.
I gaze at the leaves down below, whose time has come.
Endings are beginnings too.
I smile, inhaling another lungful of cedar.
Then I sing.
So leave your troubles,
with the trees.
Let them die,
with the leaves.
For it’s here,
they wish to stay.
So let them,
let them lay.
With love from the forest,
~ Alexander

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