As I walk in the wee hours of the morning
I find the simplicity of starting a day’s journey.
There’s a calmness in the atmosphere,
Light breeze, crisp fresh air, and quiet.
The squirrels rustle about for a few nuts,
Birds forage a worm or two for their chicks.
My mind doesn’t wander, it observes
The flower petals open wide absorbing the dew –
The bees pollinating the pistil,
Buzzing away, knowing I’m not a threat –
The bustling ants in and out of their hill,
Fearing a rain could bring their operation to a halt –
The vultures circle the nature preserve
With precision vision on unsuspecting prey –
Fiddler crabs dig out their dens after high tide,
Twice a day, showing no signs of frustration.
My walk is three miles, from start to completion,
Three to four times a week without hesitation.
Robert Stanhope started creative writing during his Junior year of high school. In his twenties, he became a motorsports journalist and was published in a number of local, regional, and national trade publications. Now in his early 40s, Bob has returned to creatively writing, including embarking on his first novel, The Last Lie.