Escape. Who hasn’t wished for such a thing?
When one can walk a short distance from home and find lush tributaries overflowing with vegetation, escape comes instantly, easily.
In the middle of the urban jungle of Dallas, White Rock Lake offers excursions into realms hardly befitting their location.
All manner of wildlife thrives here alongside the picturesque flora.
Even as I stood in the midst of this setting, a juvenile toad hopped across the path upon which I stood, paused longer than briefly as I stared back, then disappeared into the undergrowth.
Cicadas sang from the trees that reached in from all sides, sounded their quest for mates throughout the space, offered up that ubiquitous refrain by which summer is defined. A myriad of insects joined them by land and sea and air. The place seemed alive with tiny creatures.
Innumerable birds dashed and darted everywhere I looked. Too many to count, I appreciated them all.
The tracks of a raccoon still seemed fresh on the sandy banks of this waterway, signs of nocturnal life that rivals the daytime occupants.
Warm humid air rushed through with a still admiration for what it touched as it passed by.
I stood in awe at the surroundings all these things enjoyed.
The world washed away in slow moving waters, the bustle of humanity found itself brushed aside by plant life thriving in a world all its own.
Such escape remains difficult to find in the world we’ve created.
I shall miss this place when I’m gone.