Fragments From Floyd

Field Note, June 25, 2005: From a walk on a cool morning in June, the sun, finally, tops the ridge. Instantly I can feel its benign warmth on my face. I squint into amber shafts of light moving through the trees high on the mountain. Sunrays move like search lights through the opalescent fog, sinking visibly down into the valley, to find wet magnolia leaves along the path.

The physics of a nearby star lifts graceful rising pirouettes of cloud. And the hydrologic cycle, earth's water ballet, begins once more on the banks of Nameless Creek.