Little Boy Of The Mountain E
--E--
Examining the woven patterns upon the loom he felt a change in the light of the room. He ran to the bay window and looked out to the southward. The sun was high and still a cloudy haze covered all, but there was a little patch of warm sunlight there. He stared out and down over the valley.
It seemed the morning mists were beginning to clear, and the forest treetops could be seen poking out of the mysterious glare. The sun was creating rainbows in the misty airs. He rejoiced at the glorious sight, and his excitement to get his afternoon journeying underway grew ever stronger.
He loved the broken mists seeping between the trees, and the dripping wetness on the big leaves after rain. Oft he was held spellbound by beams of yellow-gold sunlight streaming in through gaps in the treetops that fleetingly illuminated little secret nooks between the roots and revealed multi-coloured flowers and toadstools in all their glory.
His eyes caught upon movement then, down in the mists of the valley before the line of trees began.
He wondered if he saw, veiled by the rising and evaporating clouds, a large-framed man walking down upon the way, and coming up the valley-path towards the house. The curious boy would go out to greet him.