I can feel it. I can hear it. It sometimes carries a scent to my nose. But unless something gets in its path, I cannot see it. I’m writing about the wind. Eating breakfast before my morning walk, I could not ignore the indication of what awaited outside. A decorative flag appeared starched and horizontally…
Real or imagined, daily life is filled with limitations. Do not. Should not. Cannot. But how many ARE real? I cannot walk in the woods today, because there is a chance I could get shot by a deer hunter. OR, I could wear orange, the neon light that says “Don’t shoot; I’m human.” I cannot…
As I step outside on these chilly mornings, I ask myself, “Why am I doing this?” Then, within 100 steps, I begin to warm up. My attention turns from a distaste for the cold toward an appreciation for nature in all its seasons. Sure, I have to look more closely than I do during the…
I have been forced out of the woods by deer-hunting season and must find a safer place to walk. With a 200+ acre forest on one side and an 80+ acre forest on the other, the paved path called Swamp Creek Road will be my standard route for the next few weeks. Even narrow roads…
It’s cold, bitter cold with humidity levels around 45%. The ground is a rough surface of newly frozen chunks of soil. A few ferns and grasses seemed preserved like frigid vegetables while other plants turned into a collapsed heap of wilted leaves overnight. And the stillest parts of the Swamp Creek have become works of…