My Scrolls
01425

A Walk Upon A Hill (7.9.14)

“A walk upon a hill sees the effort of ascent,

                                 sees the joy of being,

                                 sees the descent of satisfaction,

                                 sees the tiring of those at play in the freshness of the air.

A walk upon a hill sharpens the eyes to see,

                               sends a glance to read the sky for rain,

                               reports the sign of wind upon the face.

A walk upon a hill,

                      with a dog at foot,

                                     sparks activity in the friend of man –

                              sees interest in investigating everything the nose discloses,

                              sees interest in a stick once it has left the hand,

                              sees interest in a ball to be captured while it rolls,

                              sees the checking with the master or the mistress for approval and command.

A walk upon a hill can unfold a time of happiness,

                                                 a time of contentment,

                                                 a time of chasing and of return for all involved and playful.

A walk upon a hill investigates the path of ease,

                               can cause a zig-zag in the steps attaining height,

                               inspects the placing of the feet where slips and slides appear unlikely,

                               calls companions to follow as the walk progresses.

A walk upon a hill with a child attending,

                                                 sees exuberance to spare,

                                                 sees wonder in the smallest item as discovered by searching eyes,

                                                                                                      as gathered by small hands –

                                                                                           a grasshopper in the summer warmth –

                                                                                           a snail with a silvery trail in morning –

                                                                                           a fledgling,

                                                                                                       with its wings aquiver,

                                                                  still being fed by caring parents as it follows in their wake.

A walk upon a hill with a kite in hand speaks of playing with the wind,

                                                                         of running to pick up and relaunch,

                                                                         of soaring ’til a nosedive ends temporary success with the mastery of the wind,

                                                                         of running backwards to encourage a surface for the wind to lift,

                                   to lie upon the slope for to view the frolics of the kite as tethered to the hand.

A walk upon a hill can lead to a discovery of a nesting place upon the ground,

                                                 a discovery which breaks the bounds of camouflage,

                                                                    which spots the spotted eggs,

                                                                    which sees a mother fleeing quietly through the grass before taking to the wing.

     Oh to watch the rising flight of a skylark as it trills and rises vertically while hovering in the sky.

A walk upon a hill can see the growth of a collection of the wild flowers spread around,

                               can see a hand extended to accept a valued flower of choice from a related smaller hand –

                                         with a face filled with enchantment at the acceptance of the chosen gift.

A walk upon a hill can offer hiding places for games of hide and seek among the bushes –

                                 where hiding is seen as much more fun than seeking,

                                 where silence is soon broken with disclosure of location by the young at heart –

                                                                                                                              wanting to be found.

                                                           ‘Finding’ produces giggles of delight with a run for ‘Home’.

A walk upon a hill can encounter the trickle of a rivulet:

                                            where the night rain is self-draining and slipperiness abounds,

                                            where the white frost of the morning foreshadows,

                                                                                                               in its brevity,

                                                                                                                           a lovely sunny day;

                                            where the covering of the clouds –

                                                                              the blankets of the earth –

                                                                 decided to keep warm a distant area of interest –

                                            where the hills are not quite so high and the wind has gone to bed.

A walk upon a hill amazes at the sunset with the clouds arrayed for a display of grandeur –

                                                                 where the blues and greys become the pinks and scarlets –

                                                       as the sky starts its display in earnest with the sinking of the sun,

                                                                 builds to a summation of intensity,

                                                       and as quickly fades back into oblivion –

                                                                 with its promise for tomorrow duly noted by the wise.

A walk upon a hill is never boring to the observant,

                               is missed without experiencing by the non-participant,

                               is appreciated and encouraged by those who’ve been before.

A walk upon a hill of God is there to be enjoyed,

                                           is there to experience the changing time of day,

                                           is there to welcome the surroundings with the views –

                                                        to impact with the memories upon the heart-felt spirit of man.

A walk upon a hill can speak of a divine appointment with God,

                                                                                       with a companion,

                                                                                       with self,

                                                                                       with a walker who would stop to chat,

               one who would like to share in an activity of flying model aircraft or gliders on the winds.

A walk upon a hill builds a story worth telling with enthusiasm –

                                                           the sharing of the wild flower posies –

                                                           the decoration of the daisy chain lain around the neck –

                                                           the panting of companionship where movement never ceased –

                                                  upon return to the family of loving listening ears.

A walk upon a hill is worth the flurry of preparation,

                               is worth the relationship so strengthened,

                               is worth the blessings so imparted and received,

                               is worth the wisdom gained from God,

                               is worth the time spent in touch with a land of beauty where discoveries abound.”

 

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