Today when I walk through the woods, my curiosity for the natural world is a gift I have known since I was a child.
I remember being assigned to draw the progress of tree leaf bud to full grown leaf. I was amazed at the intricacy and the relentless–yet graceful–beauty with which that ash tree opened.
These dances that nature performs in each season happen without announcement or invitation. As a plant being, a leaf opens in its perfect cycle.
I watch birds and leaves cross my path on my favorite hiking trail. I stop to write at the edge of the pond — just as I did as a teenager; a poet and introvert. The pond happens to be bigger today than the pond I knew as a kid. I’m often graced — like I was today — with the flyover by a great blue heron.
There are planes in the air and car traffic in the distance. The public safety precautions of social distancing are wearing on people — uncertainty is a constant.
The certainty I find is in the opening of the leaves. Each time I come to the trail, more of the trees have their leaves poking out, like adolescents peering their heads outside their bedroom doors.
I’m honored to witness Spring unfolding and the interruption of a bird or chipmunk who might be going through their daily motions.
Two Canadian geese honk their way into the cove. Two graceful shadows against the sky glide smoothly and begin their descent into the water. Uninterrupted by the other wildlife.
It is the most peaceful and inspiring moments here by the water, with my inner child and muse whispering in my ear, and my wise inner parent gently standing beside her, comforting her and enjoying her happiness.