Riding through the dried woods of the Black Hills on a noble mount is an everlasting experience. A red-brown mare steadily making her way through the brush. Fresh pine needles, pinecones, maple leaves sporting autumn shades, and dried grass litter the dirt path. The rhythmic walking of the riding mount mixing with the gently cool breeze flowing through the trees. Twittering birds rush to and fro across the sky searching for sunflower seeds. Blue clouds heavy with precipitation gradually grow darker as they reach across the horizon. Evergreens mix with taller maple trees forming a barrier of safety. Squirrels leaping from tree to tree, collecting food for the winter to come. The entrancing smell of the sap mingles with decaying wood, fresh manure, and the promise of rain. The thick aroma of tree sap lifts into the air covering all it touches. The entrancing smell of the sap mingles with decaying wood, fresh manure, and the promise of rain. The silence is as enjoyable as a good book that you just can’t put down. Slowly the air becomes denser as the clouds prepare to release their burden. The sun hides its face as the dark clouds take over the sky. A cool breeze streams through the branches of the surrounding trees. A soft trickle of rain falls from the dense mass of clouds looming above. The birds dart for the cover of their nest, and squirrels find shelter in the trunks of the great maple trees. The rain falls harder and faster. The wet drops slide over the bare skin of the rider, creating a truly refreshing feeling. The pitter-patter of the rain echoes through the trees. The dried woods drink up every last drop the sky offered, and begged for more. Slowly the rain ceased to fall and the clouds floated away, revealing the brilliant sunrays once again.
2006-10-10
10:09:20
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13 answers
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asked by
Andy
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in
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