A Walk in the Woods

 

Sunday, June 17, 2012 – A Walk in the Woods

Just a few houses beyond mine, Convento Terrace opens up onto a path through the woods.  This path is one of my favorite walks at any time of year, but it’s an especially delightful way to escape from the heat of summer.  When I set out this morning, right after breakfast, the air still holds the crisp edge of night. 

There’s something deep and elemental in the smell of the forest.  The multi-layered scent brings back memories of times that barely remain in my consciousness.  It’s a mixture of life, death, and rebirth.  Trees fall – from the wind, from lightning strikes, from simple old age – and decay, losing their identities, only to be recycled into new life.  Aside from a curious chipmunk that runs alongside the path, no animals are in sight.  Perhaps it’s too early for the squirrels to make an appearance.  But I can eavesdrop on the early morning chatter of the birds.   

Splatters of sunlight fall through the leaves, caressing the tall proud tree trunks, illuminating treasures on the forest floor.  Some branches swoop in graceful arcs; others extend at awkward angles like broken limbs.  I study the shapes and sizes of leaves, the textures of tree trunks.  Few colors interrupt the riot of green and brown.  A stray wild strawberry and a cluster of clover beg for attention.  I’m suspicious of a three-leafed plant growing rampant beside the path – poison something?  How I wish I could recognize all of the different kinds of flora and fauna. 

Sometimes the woods hold a slightly menacing feel of the unknown, but today I feel safe in its tangled embrace.  The rock and leaf strewn path beneath the soles of my walking shoes creates an invigorating tingle and puts a spring in my step.  Suddenly, I emerge from the woods at the far end of the path.  The morning sun flings its warmth across my shoulders.  What a splendid way to start the day.