This morning, instead of taking Indie to the dog park like I usually do, I decided to go for a walk with him in my local forest preserve. This change of plans was partly fueled by my desire to avoid washing his muddy paws and partly by my desire to be alone. This walk in the woods was a bit of a risk -- normally the forest preserve is pretty packed on the weekends. This isn't a bad thing, but today I was not in the mood for company. With impending rain in the forecast, I took a chance that the normal crowds would be scared away. I was right.
These camera phone picture are rather disappointing, but I hope you can get at least a tiny sense of what my walk was like today. When I got out of my car, I saw that a light and misty fog was creeping through the trees. (It was shy at first but over the last few hours it has grown bolder. Right now it's at my doorstep, pacing, waiting to be let in.) The temperature had finally hit above freezing, so all the pretty snow was melting, turning into grey, slippery sludge. My rainboots did not have enough traction, my socks were too thin, it was a sticky situation. Although the snow was slowly disappearing, it was replaced by the music of running water. The river was flowing quickly and echoing through the trees. No more icy stillness, the forest was coming back to life.
The air was different, too. A subtle whiff of smoke made it feel like I was walking around the edge of a mountain ski town. The water itself carried the scent of rotting trees, rust, and stagnation. Although I couldn't see them, the birds were singing to one another. Indie ignored the sparrows and instead focused on some fresh squirrel tracks. Where the snow was patchy I could see the forest ground. Dirt that was soft and fresh, the color of dark chocolate. Orange and yellow leaves that had somehow held on to their color throughout the frost were exposed and in various stages of decay. The ground was littered with slivers of green making their way up to the surface and little red berries were sprinkled about.
During today's walk, I felt transported to another place. With nature all around me and the signs of our Earth waking-up from its winter sleep, I felt at peace, if only for a little while. As eager as I am to move to the city, it will be hard to be so far away from this magical little forest. It reminds me that there is still a part of life that moves at its own pace, without deadlines or email reminders or expectations. It reminds me that change is around the corner, and that my friends is a good thing.