Near to June and morning met with crisp, cool dew feeling near to frost. It was a cool year. Everything grew slower, but also, all grew richer. All grew richer in the time it took, the roots that went down before green and growth grew high, resources and means to sustain when heat and adversity undoubtedly arrived.
He walked in the lawn, cool on his feet, over soles and toes and rose to wet cover of his ankles. Turning back to her on porch, shine of her shins in morning sun from out of covering gown worn loose in the morning ease—warmed and covered and also free from the feeling of constraint.
Rising sun, warming of the almost-frost, cloud of mist appeared over land—silver’s start transfigured gold in fast rising of low sun—and it seemed they were alive in lake of suspended cloud; home and porch and she upon, trees of the lawn and trees in the distance in rise and break from lake cloud’s face.
It was minor mystery that gifted awe and returned a sane and analytic mind again to imaginations, metaphors, and wonders.
Cultivation killed the Wonder: cement and bricks and evermore cheap covers never meant to last; that broke and divided open spaces from vantage and perspectives. He felt, when amongst them, his spirit wane; but in the wild places, all restored.
Restored—maybe that wasn’t the word. Remained—for it was never lost, never destroyed, but true—remained—in God-made state.
So too, it seemed, in such places he became—remained.
Imagination, metaphor, and wonder—he walked upon the waters of lake cloud in world-surround and smiled back to her in rest and rise above it all.
Further rise of sun erased the lake, waters dissolved again to sky. Rich of the pastures appeared again in sea of headed green. In rest and rise above it all—countenance-smile, cover of gown, bright-illumed in the morning sun—she remained.
Wonder, he thought on Heaven.