Sunlight streams through the thick canopy of trees as a carpet of mixed ferns sway on the forest floor.
The lady ferns, with their shapely bodies and delicate features, point to the younger fiddlehead ferns unfurling their festive balls of tightly woven fingerlets adjacent to the horsetails, with their streaming fireworks-style spires.
In the distance, the familiar call of the gold crowned sparrow and the haunting piccolo of the hermit thrush echo over the chirping of nearby robins as they hop through the thickets in search of afternoon treats.
The rich musky scent of moss and earth swirls in the air as the tall toothpick-like Spruce branches click-clack in the breeze.
A delicate cream-colored butterfly flits by.
Spruce needle caps and pollen dust cascade from the treetops bringing the world a coat of yellow with brown accents.
“Sweet-sweet-sweetly,” sings the orange-crowned warbler.
They are speaking, each fern, bird, butterfly and tree. A wisdom spoken without words. An ancient wisdom in their design guiding those who will listen to life.
Inviting me to live as they do, without regret or worry.
Fulfilling their purpose by unfurling their beauty, singing, swaying, drinking in the sunlight, and click-clacking in the breeze.
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