Oh how beautiful the forest appears to the naive eye


Oh how beautiful the forest below appears to the naive eye

The willow blows gently on a summer night
Leaves floating down to rest on the calm lake below
Its thick billowy roots digging deep in the great journey to keep it upright
Inside its trunks a great tawny owl, awakes to the surrounding afterglow

Oh how beautiful the forest below appears to the naive eye

Suddenly, with great flap and hoot, the owl takes flight
It rules the night sky with its ears poised like a crown fit for a king
Swooping, turning, cartwheeling, searching for the perfect parasite
Suddenly, it dives for the ground, its talons glistening like a great diamond ring

Oh how beautiful the forest below appears to the naive eye

Under the tall spears of grass, the gentle hum of insects fills the dark midnight
Suddenly, the sweet, staccato, violin string of the cricket’s musical wing prevails
It sings in the wind, jumping to and fro, frolicking through the faint but sure moonlight
Then suddenly, the wind comes to a stop, all is quiet but the soft crackling of an abandoned fire, left unwanted, by the lone camper

Oh how beautiful the forest below appears to the naive eye

Looking just a little farther over the meadow, a dark tent sits atop a hill, it's only light coming from the fire, and the moonlight’s reflection
Its owner snuggles inside, slowly inhaling and exhaling to the beat of the nature all around.
The silhouette of the battered, nature worn, camper, sends dark, spiraling shadows in every direction
Suddenly the camper is awakened, to all the beauty that will astound

He glances at the great willow, gently skimming the water’s surface
He glances up at the great horned owl, sending insects scattering at its wake
He glances all around him at the crickets in the grass
Then lastly, he looks at his own tent, and the flame still sputtering gently

Oh how beautiful the forest below appears to the naive eye

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