Image by Lucas Janin via Flickr
Wispy tendrils of smoke, swirl and weave their way upward, carrying crimson embers flitting skyward to slowly dim then die. A decidedly campestral bouquet permeates the night sky on imperceptible currents of amorphous, smoky trails winding their way upward.
The satisfying comfort of relaxed, rested, contentment I feel emanating from this blazing glory of a simple campfire, wed to an illustrious night sky. One of those unambiguous, seldom described, ever desired, muse freeing, pleasures, that spur such wondrous rumination. The soulful solace lends itself to the spirited wanderings of a curiously creatively imagination. A silent interrogatory, posed to myself. Hundreds of abstract possibilities, some philosophical, others fictional… mulled over, contemplated, reasoned out.
The plaintive howl of a lonesome coyote sounds hauntingly in the distance. Answered quickly with the harmonious melody of a pack far closer than appreciated. Ripping my percipient thoughts from the unknown concepts of a frigid, intriguing outer space. Feuding instincts send contradictory messages along a vast network of nerves. A chill ripples down my spine, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end. Fight or flight dumps a slight load of adrenaline, then reason quickly calms with unknown endorphins. The haunting, hungry sounds of nature fuel the internal conflict, stimulating fictional ideas.
Cognizant speculation of numerous theoretical possibilities. The conceivable and plausible, evaluated, questioned, formulated. The incomprehensible, discarded, set aside to make room for more realistic potential. Such, inspiring, impressively, fertile breeding grounds for conjecture… breathtaking, revitalizing. The abundance of possible content, overwhelming with its promise.
This is what I love so much about getting out of the city. Back to the simplicity of nature.
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