Manuel's River, Newfoundland

The sound of snapping twigs under my slow footsteps is like a metronome keeping time for my thoughts. It feels safe to set them free in a place like this, free to flutter about amongst the layers of spruce branches to mingle with the various flies.. house... butter.. damsel...


I discover a quiet place to sit and think... someplace where my wandering thoughts are supplemented by the throaty calls of the blue jays and the gentle rippling of the water at the river's framework.


Evidently, I am not the first person who sought refuge from a chaotic week and discovered it nestled in this pristine setting. I wonder if someone placed this rustic bench here for that reason or perhaps to remember someone who used to enjoy spending time here. What I love most is how it blends in.. how it was not originally a part of this family of trees and grasses, but it seems to belong here just the same.. and exists in harmony, for the benefit of those who are fortunate enough to encounter it.

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved