Allison Kashon

Allison Kashon

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I went out yesterday, feeling a deep need to restore myself. I walked along a winding deer trail, its mossy, needle-scattered carpet muffling my tread. I came to rest where the trail subsided into the luminous shallows of a cedar lake. Rippling swirls of amber, roan, cinnamon, teak, umber, coffee, and olive danced. Mesmerized by their undulating rhythm, I barely noticed the laughing breeze until, freed, a solitary scarlet leaf skirled and drifted past slowly, ever so slowly. It quieted at the base of this pine, as did I - grateful, beyond word and measure, for the wholeness of the moment and the ability to listen with my heart.