Friday, August 5, 2011

The Walker

Placing her hands flat just under her eyes, she looked over the field.  She blinked in the sun, and resumed.  The fertile aroma of the grass and earth wafted upward; the air was humid.  Her feet were dirty, but she did not seem to notice. Neither did she mind the sun.

The field was to her right. The trail was shaded on the left by trees, on the other side of which lay another pasture. 

The field extended up a gradual slope until it reached a high point upon which a few trees stood. A pair of crows flew from one tree to the next.  The trail on which she was traveling also ascended, though at a shallower angle.

She continued on up the trail.  She thought for a moment of the friend who had wanted to join her.  She stopped again and looked again at the summit of the field, about a quarter mile distant.

A short while later she reached the high point of the trail.  A ridge ran between the point where she stood and the small stand of trees at the top of the field.  She contemplated the continuation of the trail, sloping down to a partly-shaded stream.  Then she continued onward.








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