L.B.T.

I had a Land Before Time moment in the back drop of the hollow. The Ferns, epically prehistoric, the vinca vines coating the forest floor like a thick layer of fondant spread across a fluffy chocolate cake. The trails and the bored out holes of the 17 year, Brood X cicada are scratched across the topsoil. The vinca carpet is indisputably impeccable. I believe the millennials call it "periwinkle." This fallen tree reminded me of the skeletal remains of a dinosaur returning itself to factory settings. Only the aliens saw them on full display. A tale of pre-history spelled out in the heart of Perry County, PA. On this road (location undisclosed) rests the rubbly remnants of a stone home. The foundation is readily visible, footprint flawless. All I can see amongst these prehistoric ruins is time standing still. As old as times when caribou canvassed the country, as clear as the church bell's "ding" on a Sunday morning. Just like to sit for a spell and talk with my wifey and watch all these birds and bees flow through the trees, and catch the deer off guard when they are face first in the turnips. The colors speak clarity, these 50 Shades of Green give me the dream, taking a day to walk away, into the sunlit morning down in the hollow, hollering out my songs of endearment to my hand in hand partner. Sipping coffee and watching the sun throw shade against the green machines at work in the woodwork.