Pagosa in the Fall

Gigantic spruce and ghost trees
mossy rocks and logs
It truly is
the forest primeval-unadorned.
Perfect in its harmony.
Deer and chipmunks scamper noiselessly through the woods
without fear.
And on rare occasion, the elk, majestic and ghostly emerge from the forest at dusk.
Reluctantly, first one then two then four.
On cue, the regal buck emerges very slowly and very guardedly.
He stands unmoving for a very long time.
When all seems safe, he returns to the forest for stragglers,
they float slowly across the meadow without a sound and disappear into the trees on the far side
Except the four humans watching reverently, no one would know they were there.
The fire snaps and crackles, mesmerizing yellow flames, licking the cedar logs
sweet smoke trails slowly into the blue black of night.
The velvety blackness is lit with a million points of light covering all like an umbrella.
The breezes are cold, but gentle and the fire warm and comforting.
There is a sense of peace, of camaraderie, of sharing-there is laughter and discussion
deep and shallow.
As the fire begins to die, the conversation fades- final embraces
and the inevitable walk back, long and cold.
The shiny little trailer reflects the light from the sky and looks welcoming.
The beds are thick with quilts and comforters, little heater warms the space and night closes in with a whisper.

Dawn comes gently.
There is frost on the window,
but the quilts and comforters belie the cool temperature.
At long last, nature cannot be denied, and it is time to scurry
to the elegant outdoor facility.
A rude awakening.
Boiling water then hot tea, some fruit and cheese
and the day has begun.
Warm blankets with thick socks and a little heater
soft rain falling outside, the gentle drops on the metal roof.
And the quiet.
Each with their thoughts - writing or knitting, separate and together.
A companionable silence, with occasional smiles or jokes.
A comfort that comes from many years of familiarity.

Yes, this is Fall on the land.