The little brown wren hopped along the wooded path just ahead of Rosebud. Thick fern fronds brushed against Rosebud's skirt as she walked. She stepped on three flat rocks counting them one-two-three and then stopped to listen. The little wren stopped too as if waiting for Rosebud to continue. Standing quietly, just listening to the stillness she noticed the little wren was sitting beside a lovely, pink lady slipper. Rosebud took out her sketch book from her bag and made a few quick sketches to use later. She jumped when an acorn dropped on her hand. Looking up she saw the flick of a tail of a grey squirrel as it ran across the tree limb above her head. The path turned down as she continued to walk. Looking through the trees she could see the open field. The quiet turned into sweet music as the song of the wren played for her the rest of her walk home.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
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