BetsyH

The familiar music of the tune echoed through the canyon, the lyrics bouncing jauntily from one rock formation to the other, stationary as treble clefs yet somehow beholden to the lilting sound, her feet dangling down from above, the soft denim skirt floating around leather graced ankles in the western breeze. The sound floated above the pines in measures much as in some concert hall...without doors, no drapes or ceiling acoustics...simply sky, end-of-day azure with floating clouds tinged in orange and purple. Her feet tapped to the rhythm of it all, the floral boots' stitching leaning and glinting fancy to her leg movement ore' the rock's sanded edge. "Must be dancing in you" she said in passing to the handsomely clipped leather toes still tapping. A night hawk lit on her shoulder and cocked his head as if in agreement. Her wings sprang forth, legs and boots tucked in for flight... and into the evening she glided, silver raptor beside, riding the magical air tide of her own special melody line ~

Aug 16