morn chill, but not cold

frost thick on grass, leaves crunching

sun rising gradually over the hog back.

Shadows retreating

we started down the trail

No expectations, just a pleasant

way to start the day,

preparing for stresses

only humans create to fill our days

walking in soft conversation

A few birds chirping faintly heard,

magpies perhaps, maybe jays

not seen, mostly silent

looking across the field

a head appeared, then another and another

too far to hear as they munched

on the feast of newly frosted grass

immagination supplied the narrative

we thought they stamped as they gathered

to graze the far side

They paced us as we walked

veering into thicket as distance closed

we may not have heard them

though they heard us

ears swiveling, continuing to feast

We followed for maybe half a mile

Never truly closing

not minding the silence

talking quietly among ourselves

preserving the gentle majesty of the moment.