The day runs wet, and the water pours,
Down the mountain trail, across the land,
Clouded by rain, kept covered by trees,
Across the large rocks it flows,
With it the sound of the forest,
The sound that doesn’t stop , but
It takes concentration for the depth of
It’s call, to reach and maintain the peak
As we walk, we talk, we hear the nature call.
The trickles of it moving can curl in its way,
As with each day it repeats, and pours
Over the side of the path it makes, if we Are there to hear it, or can remember it’s call, both day and night.
Ralph Peck
Photography by Whitney Hall
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