Perhaps A Sandwich
Let's have an adventure we said, since the sun is shining.
Just a small afternoon adventure, and then perhaps a sandwich.
New territory will do us good.
We squeeze a car through dark moss lanes, find a wooded valley with lingering mist: exactly the sort of place.
The boys take pictures of it, for reference and for the way the light plays. We talk of these scenes, leisurely, as we pass; the path is wide and almost level.
The different sorts of green; in depth and texture; how our hands feel the shade.
How the firs seemed to march, down to the water, out of the backlit blaze, like out of a spaceship. This is how it looks, to us, as we stretch up hands to catch some warm rays. They come in peace. Ease of progress on this pale gravel trail.
Bikes go by and toddlers on trikes tow parents. Shadow goes by, and pattern and bright sky, filtering. Dogs on leads and muddied, free: all tails wag. A pony makes a fuss, crossing the stream; we turn to watch and see our own shadows, elongated, falling behind.
Travel home, under a blue-sky moon, half dreaming.
Let's have a sandwich we say, and maybe later brew coffee.