todayon this first day of winterwalking past the pandanuson bukki roadthe mid-afternoonhas softened - the sungently filters throughthis plantationa small anomalyin this otherwise authentic landscapeyet large enoughto stifle sound from the world beyondreplaced by ever present humof delicate pines swaying in the breezethenfalling leaves...[?]no - leaves that fly...[?]the sky is overwhelmedand I along with itthe zodiac moths are taking flighthave taken frightby the thousand, three score and teno - beautiful fearI cannot feel sad to have disturbed theeI can feel only gratitudethat I am a fortunate witnessto this myriad of silhouettes - of iridescencethe sky cannot competewith this beautywings that together beat like hearts openthen settle again silentI walk on to findthe branches are laden with life - lifelife - so brilliant - so briefwho can know the worth of all our yearsbe they greater than a life lived in hoursbe they grateful - any - who have known such beautyhowever fleeting - bethat precious moment'The days of our years are threescore years and ten;and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years,yet is their strength labor and sorrow;for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.'*
[images + text Bek Larkin copyright 2011]