Blues have new hues: notes upon music scales. Leaves tremble as the mercury travels lower in its glass enclosure. Oranges, yellows, golds and reds have been blended on the pallete…brown is now king.
Watching the trees among the hill sway in their winter state is mesmerizing. Silhouettes of Maple, Oak and other hardwoods dance along currents of autumn air. Hypnosis is inevitable as the creek down below wards off our human tendencies…
A ring of salt to ward of demons within–
At times these tendencies we rely upon pose a danger we cannot fathom. Tendencies can be interpreted–or used as a euphemism–tendencies are our way as humans to control our breathing moments.
The creek entwines itself within the neurons, floods the bloodstream with its heady tonic, and renders the host sedated. The acoustics of its tune a siren song, leading the listener to a crashing ectsasy of the mind.
Finding places that have such power over the spirit are precious as silver or gold.
Our minds may anguish. Our spirits may sink low.
One dose of such a powerful elixir can do wonders for the weary among us. Demons cannot dwell here.
Seek out such a song, and revel in its intent…