Written by Jonathan Austin for Honors English, November 21, 2005.
The powerful, old world trees stand- an army of enormous, wise sentinels. They keep a close lookout on the surrounding landscape. The still, cool air and light confiding trill of the Cerulean Warbler gives testimony to their long swaying watch. Golden beams of soft, muted light sift gently down from the providing sky above. The bright green leaves filter the glow, adding an ethereal effect to the already beautiful scene. Rich, loamy soil releases the scent of new life growing out of the providing remains of the old. Gently, the rich scent of the earth mingles with the bright cleansing scent of pine, surrounding the area in an aura of rebirth. Underlying the clear, drowsy song of a Warbling Vireo lays the smooth percussion of a carefree, lazy stream. Beneath its swift rush of water, it tumbles rough stones into glassy perfection. In its gentle eddies, the stream looks over many creatures from the smallest of the fish to the largest of the crawdads, all can find comfort in the soft swirls of the brook. Overlooking the stream sit the ancient ones. They are great behemoths of stone that prop themselves self confidently on the banks of the water. Their great shoulders, slumped with age are clothed with the cloak of time. Deep beds of moss insulate them from the chill of the ages. A fresh breeze of cool air flows unhurriedly through the trees- the great guardians of time.