In the distance, there are mountains,
in the valley here below, are ridges;
the flow of water from a stream,
in wilderness, there are no bridges.
Just the sun, playing hide and seek,
with wispy clouds that dot the sky;
the wonder of the natural world,
so sweet and pleasant, I just sigh.
I take each stride with measured step,
along the dusty, rock-strewn trail;
and then I laugh with much delight,
at frightened, startled, baby quail.
But quiet's what pervades the scene,
no sounds of traffic to my ear;
though I am not that far from town,
you would not think, people near.
That's how it is, out in the west,
land is big and wide, people free;
the heavens so expansive and so vast,
for a hundred miles, your eyes can see.
I reach the crest of my old path,
one I've walked, many a time;
content to gaze out to the space,
and gather in, one more rhyme.