ever since i discovered the grove.
it's been a place of peace.
i love standing at the mouth of the woods.
that first stretch of dirt-packed path to the forest.
i take a quick breath before i enter.
it's a different world beneath that canopy.
of tree and branch.
and anything is possible.
on my latest journey there.
i came upon a place where the trees break.
and a lovely view of the blue pond emerges.
as i peered between the bark-covered trunks.
i halted and i hushed.
for perched like porcelain on the surface of the water.
stood a snow-white crane.
her beak dipped low.
as she balanced on the blue tide.
with effortless ease.
i longed to capture her image.
removed the cap from my camera lens.
my presence made known.
she turned her head to my rustle.
and lifted into the wind.
her wings moved like a single feather.
up and down like a marionette.
as she perched on a tree branch across the pond.
for a moment in her presence.
i was curious to see.
what my camera captured.
of the great cranes flight.
and was delighted to find.
you can just see her.
on the film.
a white wisp on the water.
leaving a shadow.
and a ripple.
in her wake.