A Scoop of Sunshine

"That's the mountain where fire goes to sleep", said one of the old locals, "Nobody goes there after sun down." René listened with intent. He drove this far along the dusky road to reach the village, which lay at the foothills of the mountain. The waters from a nearby stream added a sparkling sound to the misty mountain air. He picked up his back-pack and walked into the small hut, his base, for the next few days.

Lady on the swing, Your hair blows in wind, As you sit there swaying, As if in a dream.

There was a wise old man, Who sat under a tree, spick and span. Children played around him, Clustered chirps and cherry blossom swings.