Late October, gazing up from
a meadow in the mountains
above the Russian River,
embraced by Doug fir,
oak, bay, madrone and redwood,
I relive a day spent
walking trails and witnessing art
subtly married to its environment.

Led by the hand to this sanctuary
by a friend who spent decades
bringing to fruition a concept of
art honoring its surroundings,
each turn, each rise,
brings an appreciation
for the eyes that envisioned this.

Now, at the end of the day,
with city lights a world away
and a blanket of stars overhead,
Jupiter brilliant in their midst,
the experience is magnified,
and I am humbled
by my surroundings.