The road to Jerusalem winds with the curves of the river, around clay cliffs and through pine forests. Sunlight filters through tenacious trees, sometimes lighting up a leaf, outlining a rock. The peace is palpable, floating down from distant hilltops.
I leave the car and wander the river bank, search for fossils in the cliffs. No sounds except birdsong and the occasional bleating of sheep. Seed-heads are already forming on the wild parsley, and where the sun is warmest, the scent of gorse flowers.
above the leaning cliffs
(for D’verse haibun Monday)