After days of arctic cold, ambient temperature moderates into the forties. Wished-for snows have not come to pass. Cloudless skies and brisk airs invite an early afternoon ramble through woodland quietude.
Low-hanging sun casts long shadows across leaf litter. The play of light and shadow invites imagination to take flight into days of yore, where American Bison still roam the Piedmont Plateau. Time and again silence of the wood cedes dominion to the thunder of their cloven hooves, rumbling male bellows during mating season and anxious bleating of calves away from their mother.
In mind’s eye I return to their heyday. Millions roam our continent. My heart is heavy as I pay homage to the iconic beasts at a decaying tree stump shaped like a bovine skull—a fitting allegory of their disgraceful near extermination.
© Ilija Lukić 2020
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| Ghost Of Bison Past (photo impressionism) |
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