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Editor’s note: We asked our 36 Grand Lake retreaters to consider contributing to the blog so we could have virtual trips there. Our first is a prose poem from the wonderful Ginny Hoyle. Thanks, Ginny, and bring on the rest!
NORTH INLET TRAIL, JULY 12, 2010
Today I meet the meadow half-way. It is holding still. It is green and gold, warmed by a gentle sun. Once I might have chased it, seized it, worried it the way a dog makes a rag doll of a downed bird. Once I might have tried to take it apart, my tool kit stocked with mesmerizing weapons of distraction. Then I was a match in a falling forest, a keyboard chewing up the land. Now I let the meadow come to me. I roost on a rail fence as five sleek horses ingest the green-gold hour, turning sweet grass into muscle and bone. If I hold still enough long enough, maybe I will see how the thing is done.