A space to breathe. To look into the sky. To let nature fill me up with a good, bright smile.
I love our woods. I've written about this place before. One of the things I love is the ever-changing face these woods present in the different seasons. Winter shocked me the most - with the barren, spiny trees that reached up, disappearing into the sullen skies. Dull and crispy leaves lay their heavy blanket on the cold earthen floor. The creek pools filled black with decomposing fallen leaves.
Somehow, though, just after the daffodils peered their sunny faces up at the end of the stalwart winter, but long after the flowering trees had dropped their blossoms, the woods bellowed out with a vibrant and swift herald. Trees burst forth with thick, luminous green that drew my eyes to the heights. Today, the branches were heavy with freshly fallen rain. I ducked under branches that bent low across the path. The air hung with a cool, refreshing humidity. I heard the stream beside me trickle, then gurgle, then spill, then rush, then tumble into the creek where one neighborhoods hill met another.
It is now when, if you walk quietly enough, you can see a raccoon whisk past and hastily climb a broad oak. And if you look into the trees just a little deeper than normal, you can see the full, white tails of the deer bounding away from the trail. Or stumble upon a box turtle waiting patiently for you to pass so he can continue on his way. Wyatt stops at the tree he knows the raccoon loves and paws at the rocks where the turtle can be found. And Butte pads along behind, happy for another trip into our favorite place.
I love our woods.