The sound no longer registers. Hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of impacts have dulled my senses; I no longer hear my boot striking the trail. It is selective filtration, the repetitious, man made noise subjugated. Willow Flat stretches to my left, its dense vegetation offering life in the form of food and concealment. Frequent moose … Continue reading Depth of a Rainbow aka Lunch Tree Hill
Rhythmic Rambling
