When the cows come home...

I set out on a walk down the lane Saturday evening.  On the Western Horizon, the aura of coral pink called to me.  It resembled the old tinted photographs.  It was to be a magical evening!

Along the manicured lane, I found one lonely, stunted phlox in bloom.  I stopped to give it some attention.  The good Indian in me said, look farther!  Over the banking, a few feet from the pile of slash and trash was the back of a very healthy Trillium!  A purple Trillium!  My sister and I had played among the Trilliums, Mayflowers, and LadySlippers throughout our childhoods!

I walked on, turned toward that sunset aura, and came to the crossroads.  There were a few of the cows nearby.  I turned down the hill, approached the fence, and the cows came running.  More, and more of them appeared out of the woods in back.  they approached me, but would not come any closer than 8 feet.

A cow would blow, I would blow and shake my head slowly.  We kept on like that for sometime, with lots of eye contact! I became aware of the calling of the Redwing Blackbirds by the fire pond.  As the evening progressed, the Robins chimed in.  Soon the peepers created the rich base for this ensemble.

I walked on to the fire pond.  There, the gold straw, dried pale, against the darkening waters, was interrupted by the black with red of my favorite bird.  I must paint, I must paint, I must paint!

It was all so vibrant!