WeatherSystems

The waters were swift, the riverbank was still. Deep ran the current, shallow was the soil. Uninhabited, the land beckoned a visitor to wander its ghastly shore. Footsteps from times gone by lay deep beneath the ancient ground. A cry is heard from within reaching out to the wind spreading like fairies through the clear October skies. The tree branches hung low sweeping the earth with leaves of red, yellow and orange. Dressed like warriors, they guard the kingdom. I am on the other side seeking a pathway to cross. A log, some rocks, a breach of some sort would guide my way. Why cross I ask myself? To place my feet upon the foreign soil? To pamper my desires or conquer my fears? The wind swirls around my face leading me downstream. Dark shadows feed thick green moss upon the rocks. Water from the river bathes their briskly hairs allowing my feet to slip with each step. Guarded by instinct, I cautiously move with the wind against my back. I come to a bend with rocks towering ever so high. A tattered and torn gray log with dangling green ferns dancing in the breeze just above the choppy waters lay across the frigid boundary. It is here as I whisper to myself, to cross. I gaze upward to the azure skies, no clouds, no birds, nothing. I sit and slither somewhat reluctantly across the gnarled tree. The rushing water below me tarries my being, I raise my eyes and stare at the other side. Closer I move.