I Was Here

the path leads me deeper into the trees
running alongside the recently thawed river
i tromp down to the majestic beast's edge
not caring of the state of my shoes
caring less about my safety
solid sheets of ice cling to tress telling me how high the water was the day before last
the river was here before me
here before anyone built a path to admire it from
as was the rest of nature
that is how it was, and it will continue to be after i and the lot of us cease to exist
i continue on my journey
this is not a journey of distance but of contentment and fulfillment.
a stones throw away, regardless of my impromptu appearance, a small woodpecker searches for a meal
while admiring his determination, a determination that he has had to know his entire life lest he die, a human like noise startles me
for noises like that and perfectly straight lines do not belong in nature
but after some inspection im lead to believe that it was merely the ice melting and joining the rest of the ice and water and dirt and such that had left before it.
coming to a bridge, i stop.
i stop because i am not ready to cross over this bridge or into what lies past it
a family of ducks sitting in the river must be cold as i watch them let the current take them away
i left my mark on that bridge that particularly sunny February day, and i am certain it will not be there i a month's time nor was anyone witnessing me carve into the old weathered wood with a pocket knife.
but i know.
and i remember.
I Was Here.