Karina and I had some time alone in the woods this morning. It’s a dampish day, no actual rain but the air is full of water. That cushion of soft, gauzy air made me feel a bit wraithlike — as though I was wrapped in the spirit of the woods.
The two of us padded lightly over the leaf-strewn trail. Walk with us, will you?
We stopped, we listened, we noticed:
Soft grasses, and how their verticality matched the trees around them;
the fragile nests of dew in the pines;
and the sound of water dripping and leaves falling. Can you hear it?
The muted colors created a bubble of calm all around us.
And man-made totems added an air of mystery.
With only the woods whispering in our ears, we were able to focus on the details. The cloud-filtered sun lighting up these copper-colored leaves, for example.
Or the shine on these leaves — can you see it?
This evening the air is set to turn colder and wetter, but I am still cloaked in the warmth of the everyday, extraordinary beauty of today’s morning walk. I’m letting those woodsy spirits nestle deep in my bones. They are my armor against the chaotic bluster of the winter winds to come.