A walk in the woods
I do not walk like an Indian.
In fact, I rather enjoy crackling and crunching through the dried brown leaves that carpet the forest floor. It is hard to distinguish the trail at times. You have to look hard; the leaves on the trail tend to be a slightly lighter shade of brown, perhaps because they have been mussed up by other people’s feet.
I realize that my leaf cacophony will probably chase away any deer that might be in the area – or any other wildlife, for that matter – but since it is deer season, that is probably a good thing. I am not wearing bright orange.
I breathe in deeply. Sometimes the mind needs the body to make a lot of noise. It is invigorating, refreshing, almost naughty to clump through the woods.
This is an unusually warm afternoon. The sunlight has a golden quality to it that you only see late in autumn. The smell of decaying leaves is luscious, but it makes my nose run. (Thank god I am a mom because all moms have a clump of Kleenex hidden somewhere on them at all times.) The bright colors of early fall are gone, the trees mostly bare. Everything is brown. Except for the green ferns which persistently poke through the brown carpet of leaves and say, “Boo!”
If I stop, I can hear dried leaves rustling in the breeze. If I listen, I can hear a variety of birds. Don’t ask me what kinds. I can block out the distant sound of traffic, I can “unhear” it. It is more difficult, however, to ignore the airplanes on their approach path to the nearby airport.
As I walk along, content in my purposeful rustling, enjoying the forest all to myself, I am bombarded by images of all of the different forests I have walked through over the years. It reminds me how often the boys and I went for long walks in the woods when they were little, both in Germany and Alaska. We had favorite forests and favorite trails, and we would often go on adventures for hours and hours, equipped with water or juice pouches and high energy snacks, like goldfish crackers. Small children need LOTS of exercise and fresh air to wear them out, and we went on many a long walk, I can tell you.
I am not sure why we don’t do that anymore. We go on walks sometimes, but not often long treks through the forest. Lack of time, lack of interest, busy schedules, some combination of the above. I am not really sure.
I think how I will bring the boys here to walk the trails. But then I imagine them protesting, complaining, dragging their feet, thinking up excuses, and the whole endeavor kind of loses its appeal.
Maybe I will just bring them here one day and tell them we are going for a walk. Period.
Or not.
Maybe I will just come here by myself.
And make lots of noise.
In fact, I rather enjoy crackling and crunching through the dried brown leaves that carpet the forest floor. It is hard to distinguish the trail at times. You have to look hard; the leaves on the trail tend to be a slightly lighter shade of brown, perhaps because they have been mussed up by other people’s feet.
I realize that my leaf cacophony will probably chase away any deer that might be in the area – or any other wildlife, for that matter – but since it is deer season, that is probably a good thing. I am not wearing bright orange.
I breathe in deeply. Sometimes the mind needs the body to make a lot of noise. It is invigorating, refreshing, almost naughty to clump through the woods.
This is an unusually warm afternoon. The sunlight has a golden quality to it that you only see late in autumn. The smell of decaying leaves is luscious, but it makes my nose run. (Thank god I am a mom because all moms have a clump of Kleenex hidden somewhere on them at all times.) The bright colors of early fall are gone, the trees mostly bare. Everything is brown. Except for the green ferns which persistently poke through the brown carpet of leaves and say, “Boo!”
If I stop, I can hear dried leaves rustling in the breeze. If I listen, I can hear a variety of birds. Don’t ask me what kinds. I can block out the distant sound of traffic, I can “unhear” it. It is more difficult, however, to ignore the airplanes on their approach path to the nearby airport.
As I walk along, content in my purposeful rustling, enjoying the forest all to myself, I am bombarded by images of all of the different forests I have walked through over the years. It reminds me how often the boys and I went for long walks in the woods when they were little, both in Germany and Alaska. We had favorite forests and favorite trails, and we would often go on adventures for hours and hours, equipped with water or juice pouches and high energy snacks, like goldfish crackers. Small children need LOTS of exercise and fresh air to wear them out, and we went on many a long walk, I can tell you.
I am not sure why we don’t do that anymore. We go on walks sometimes, but not often long treks through the forest. Lack of time, lack of interest, busy schedules, some combination of the above. I am not really sure.
I think how I will bring the boys here to walk the trails. But then I imagine them protesting, complaining, dragging their feet, thinking up excuses, and the whole endeavor kind of loses its appeal.
Maybe I will just bring them here one day and tell them we are going for a walk. Period.
Or not.
Maybe I will just come here by myself.
And make lots of noise.
posted by delta at 10:55 AM
3 Comments:
This is why I have dogs. They are always ready for a good long walk in the woods.
This is true. I do not have dogs -- and am, in fact, deathly afraid of them because of something that happened in my youth. BUT... I see others out walking their dogs, and I can appreciate it totally. In fact, the day before yesterday I was walking a good friend's puppy -- not in the woods -- but it was not unlike going for a walk with small children. They must stop and check out everything along the route. Which kind of makes you more attuned to the world. I think.
Yes! so true. My youngest was a puppy last Fall and thanks to him I knew everything going on in our neighborhood. Also because he had to go out so much.
I am so sorry your early experience was horrifying. My dogs are therapy dogs and in the course of their work visit hospitals, schools, libraries and residential facilites. As we walk through the halls of these public buildings I am very sensitive to people we encounter who are fearful and manage the posse accordingly.
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