Atalanta

Canada

Atalanta is for the Greek myth. She was fearless, faster than any man, cunning, beautiful, and wild, in her own way. She could use a bow better than anyone but Artemis, and had a passion for nature and animals.

Message from Writer

"All good things are wild and free." -Henry David Thoreau

Lower Farm

June 20, 2017

PROMPT: Living Locales

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In the morning, everything is filmed with a fine layer of dew. Within an hour, the dampness is burned off, and blue tits begin to sing, wood pigeons squabble, and the odd pheasant struts about displaying his brilliant plumage. This all happens in the garden among all the moss patched statuary. Stone hares sleep curled up next to immobilized Greek busts and fountains. A wooden swing sleeps in the shade of an oak tree who smiles with pleasure at bearing small children and their ringing laughter. Tulips and yellow daffodils peek up from their lanky green stems and weave among the cobbles. This garden lines a rocky drive up to the house. The house is magnificent, thatched roof shielding the marvelous inside from the everlasting English rain. Cobbled paths go around a rosemary bush and the house, around the back is a vegetable garden rivaling all others. Beans wind their way around wooden tepees. Golden wax beans, fuzzy green cooking beans, and four others stand tall around the posts. Rhubarb gleams in morning light, casting a green shadow through the leaves. Ruby scarlet stems glisten with juice. Peas crawl up the broken antique trellis and beneath the black black soil, potatoes spread their eyes and grow a feast unseen. A plum tree shades the back left corner of the vegetable garden, their purple-y black fruit dripping from the boughs. At night, badgers gorge upon the fallen amethyst jewels. In the lawn sporatically placed furniture dapples the grass. Gnarled apple trees, some edible, some cookable, others beautiful, dot the landscape. A beaten path lanes down the middle, leading to a latched gate to the barn. Ponies with thick shining manes trot among the wild bunnies that have made their home in the briar. At night they sleep in soft shavings padding their stalls, and in the comfort of knowing that when morning comes, faithfully and dutifully their riders will come to feed them good things, and brush them with bright eyes, and give them love and kindness.

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