Trees are always beautiful in every season…and down by our river there are still autumn colours but the Eucalyptus are showing a promise of things to come.  Their arms stretch to heaven, and the joy they bring brightens the earth.

In the words of Joyce Kilmer:

I think that I shall never see
a poem lovely as a tree.


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.

trees tall
above the leaning cliffs

(for D’verse haibun Monday)