Tranquility

High in the limbs of the quaking aspen tree, one can sit for hours basking in the tranquility of this nearly untouched environment. Beneath these magnificent trees snakes the creek--its frigid water rushing across the stone bottom creating a melody that surpasses anything the voices of nature could concoct. Across this stream lies farmland, and beyond that, a barren field of native grasses sway in the breeze making waves like the ocean. On the bank where aspens grow, there is a small meadow surrounded by trees, part of a long, shallow valley carved out eons ago by a small stream. Towering above it all, these age-old aspen trees, also known as popples, serve as obverservation decks for the many songbirds that flit beneath them. The chattering and shrieking of squirrels is common. At times, great blue herons fly to or from their nearby roosts stimulating a chorus of grunts that seem to belong more to a pigsty than to the heron rookery that sounds them. The unique trees with bark as smooth as the twigs of saplings are a challenge to climb. The view from the top is worth the effort. Carried up with the breeze is the sweet smell of field grasses, and even the tree has an aroma of freshness and life that seems to abound nearly everywhere. At dusk, the setting sun contrasts with dark woods below and appears to set the tops of the trees on fire. Pure and peaceful is this scene, the beauty of nature at its best.