Kudzu carpeting hilly roadsides.
A silent observer of the human traffic passing between their arms.
A parade of inevitability it must be.
The green shadow of humanities invasive spirit.
Volunteer wildflowers drift side to side to a music composed for their color. Orchestras of a cool midsummers breeze distributing their seed.
Bees, wasps, hornets, and Hummingbirds dart to and fro collecting their daily dew.
The isolationist that is the groundhog makes his home wherever he can. some may call it a resemblance of a their own Walden Pond.
Always watching, planning, and moving swiftly.
Dug deep in their hillsides they are invisible to the Summer heat.
Hidden from all by the giant leaves of the Blue Ridge Mountains.
They pace, climb, dig, and chew their surrounding leaves of green and flowers of blue and yellow.
Full bellies they never seem to acquire.
Intelligent and timid architects of immense cozy rooms underground.
They have mischievous plans at all hours it seems.
The deer move in packs of four to eight, unaware of individual tasks.
White tails and understanding eyes.
Paths worn by a burden it seems.
Explorers of the Mountain Gorge home. To where they rest their heads is unknown.
Traveling over roads, brush, and jumping over gravel drive ways long abandoned.