Sometimes I forget how energizing it feels to walk in the woods. Sometimes I forget how much I need to be in nature. Sometimes I take for granted what is right in our backyard. Where our lawn ends, a forest, a stream and a greenbelt begins. Our house backs into a section of the Cross Country Trail, a 40 mile long trail that connects a million tiny streams that I would have never known existed if we didn’t live where we do now.
We walked past our neighborhood playground and entered the trail. Crossed a bridge. Sat by the stream that runs by our house. Visited the remains of several water mills (apparently by the late 1800s there were at least three just a short distance from our house. Nothing much above ground remains now). Ventured off the trail to explore some river-side beaches. Found a random tomato plant growing in the woods. Lounged by a pond and looked for turtles. Scouted out sites for potential future photo shoots (like the random bamboo forest we found). There were playgrounds and picnic areas and a beach volleyball court (??) and streams for trout fishing and a million little nooks that we vowed to explore with a picnic basket in tow when the weather was warmer.
March is now here and we are almost at the end of our Winter. In the Winter months so many of my friends and family wish for warmer weather. But not me. I’m enjoying what Winter we have left knowing that once it’s gone, it will be a long time before we meet again.
