I heard the ground squelch with each step,
The hidden cicadas humming in the shadow of the woods,
The whisper of leaves in the wind.
I felt the spongy earth beneath my feet shod in the “barefoot” shoes,
The fan of the breeze against my skin,
The heat of the sun,
 and the moist Southern air enveloping me.
I saw dappled light through the tall pines,
A bank of lavender-pink stars with golden halos in their centers,
The flash of white as the egret glided to a graceful landing at the far edge of the pond,
Persimmons beginning turn even before the first frost,
Leaves with the first red, yellow, and brown of the coming fall.
The air was clean without the fishy smell of the heated summer; it was the clean smell that follows a day of rain.
Clouds drifted, building white and silver towers in the vast blue,
Streaks of green algae painted the pond’s dark canvas with ever shifting scenes.

And for a few moments, my world was an insulated microcosm,
Teeming with life as minnows darted into the safety of the water weeds 
And black and brown dragonflies flitted from one grass stalk to another.
The egret took flight and glided against the blue sky.

All is right with the world