is one I go to often, it's hard to describe in words. In fact, I think I've made an earlier attempt at it--but words don't seem to grasp the undefinable looming energy that is present here. I walk miles of trails in this wilderness park and always start and end here. The path is covered by a canopy of old Live Oaks. A few fallen rest like masterpieces in a sculpture garden reminding of some ancient memory. Most are standing in their wild writhing positions alongside a creekbed revealing their roots to me. Those tangled roots plunge wildly into the earth, chaotic--yet still the underlying structure of what hovers high.
Regardless of the time of day, the light filters through their cover, awakening my eyes and soul to an inexplicable feeling of awe. Grace looms large and heavy here. If I could only carry it away into the otherworld of daily life with me...
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