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  • Writer's pictureTuananh

Ann Arbor

June 2, 2016

An eye opener this morning to the carcasses that lined the coned stripes directing its way to the theatrics of the arb and Motts. A few interesting pods kept my pedal steady on the throttle and a growl in my belly to the comforts of a latte and my usual pastries to go. While waiting for a sneeze of roses with Gerald's judgmental grin to appease, I didn't know what to think of Ann Arbor and all that was to greet me this morning. A paced flight to the valet line and I was on a whirlpool up to the three-and-a-half flight of cement lot hell. The Wolverines' mild tempered buses roamed this campus like the loyal subordinates to her nest. But a blink of a moment later, the lays of peonies filled the gardens that welcomed the cozy cottage that kept us visitors at bay, for today at least.

A step in one direction, two steps back, and yet a few to the side was all it took to capture those first few images. A gentleman and his lady served as the curators of these lands, and a few twinkles to keep my eyes akin and focused. But it wasn't in today's fate that kept the company of strangers in preference, but rather the powerful will and wheel of Mother Nature's grandeur and Her Majesty's magical secrets that gave my eyes and heart a rest from the everyday paces of city life. Breath. As if I had forgotten how to truly do this simple task, and step by step, I filled my lungs deep down to my soul and in those instances I found a lasting peace and serenity that have grown so foreign; and yet so familiar. The moss lined the rocks of the river's bend, the poppies that lite up the graffiti-ed stones of a century old's railway, the overgrowth that opened into an orchestral introduction to a Soprano's delight. It was her gift to me that bound my grasp, it was her thought that kept me content, and it is in her love that I see in every bloom and gesture of this grand overture of Spring.

Here we are embarked on yet another voyage on yet another "Frontier", mind that the dancing clouds are only a passing moment, it cannot take away the serenity that still lingers from my short stray from the path in the forest.  (Nichol's Arbortorum, University of Michigan. Ann Arbor)

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