Magical, Mystical Glade

  Way down behind the canebrake where the hillside slopes down to the back of the Bayou, there is a spot that never seems to fail in enchanting me.  Whether it be during the dim hours at dawn or the sun dappled time just before dusk, there is something almost magical about the spot.  Or, maybe it is just my imagination.  Could be but I still find the place fascinating.  It is here that you can hear the towhees rustling in the palmettos and the squirrels scolding you from the tall oaks.  From the midst of the canebrake, a rain crow (or yellow billed cuckoo) coos softly and the scritch, scritch, scritch of a pine warbler's sharp toes can be heard as the bird searches the pine bark for bugs.  There is a soft breeze blowing from the north and with it a scent of sweetspire wafts through the air.  The place is perfection making it easy to become lost in the wonderment.

  Son and I pushed our lawnmowers for nigh on four hours today as we trimmed up the place a bit.  Tomorrow will be much the same.  Four more hours and the mowing should be complete.  After cutting, I eased my way back down to the "secret" spot and sat on an old log enjoying the solitude. Sometimes, refreshment can come from no more than just listening, smelling and watching what is around you.  After a good day's work, it is satisfying to be able to communicate with Mother Nature.  I so appreciate the beauty around me. This magical, mystical glade is one of the spots where I can find serenity from the hubbub of the world.