A Walk in the Woods

Looking out the window at work this morning, I noticed little green buds on many of the trees by the creek across the road, and decided that today would be a good day for a walk on the nature trail behind my building.

I am very fortunate to work on a base where the work and housing areas are in a sort of oval around a central woods or forest. This area, criss-crossed with trails, is full of deer, raccoon, opossum, squirrels, and other critters, and of course riotous with flora just now bursting forth with the increasing warmth of springtime. Most of the larger trees - three varieties of oak, hickory, and birch - are sprouting tiny leaf buds that in a few weeks will produce an undulating canopy of green.

I have been on these trails many times over the past two years, almost always on two wheels. On most of the occasions when I've walked or jogged on these trails, I've imagined myself riding my mountain bike - picking lines, seeking out jumps, and hammering up the hills. My relationship with the trails and the woods has been formed at 10 miles per hour, an hour or two at a time, punctuated by brief stops for water, food, and oxygen.

Today I walk because I'm still recovering from minor surgery, and I'm not supposed to ride for another week. I just can't sit in the building any longer today, having spent much of the weekend outside. The forest beckons, and I set off for the trails thinking about riding. Before long, however, I am walking just for the sake of walking, and realize that the woods are much different at a slower pace.

I quickly leave behind the parking lot and most of the noise of the base - the mournful wail of a train whistle and the droning of an airplane high overhead are all that follow me into the forest - and find a bench in the sunlight. With a sigh of relief, I lie down to consider the pattern of bud-tipped barren branches etched against the deep blue of the sky.

As I relax into being present with the woods, I become aware of the sensuousness of my surroundings. Besides the trees and sky, I see little birds flitting about, and dust motes, leaves, and insects floating on the air. My ears alert me to the presence of many other creatures: the hammering of a woodpecker; the chirping, squawking, cawing, and cheeping of other birds; a mysterious rustling from the ground. Closer inspection of the leafy mat behind the bench reveals a busy little world of ants and beetles, and promises the presence of other more reclusive creatures such as mice, salamanders, and worms. I savor the rich scent of loamy earth and sundrenched leaves, and imagine the clear cool taste of water from a tiny rill nearby.

Continuing on my walk I notice all these things and more, and appreciate being able to go for a walk in the woods on a beautiful spring day. What power lunch or important meeting could compare with the urgency of just opening my eyes and ears to the wonder that is all around me? I want to be camping, to find my cozy little tent and lie down for an afternoon snooze to rest up for watching the stars. I want to experience this like a child - lie in the leaves and be seven again, uncaring of bills work mortgage career. I want to watch spring unfold, minute by minute and day by day, as the Earth warms and blooms.

Life is too short not to walk in the woods whenever you can.