Earlier this week we had a day that was warm-ish and beckoning, and after a few days of colder weather and coughs, I was really really ready to get out and feel it all. The mud. The walk. The stretch and wander of the mind. We wanted to look for mushrooms and wildflowers. I drove us to our nearby state park and we headed off following Ani up and up and up, straight up a path and I was thinking, yeah, this is great! This is it! This is...
On this particular day, after wandering the lakeside and cleaning up after the fishermen who frequent the shore (we've been reading about the damage discarded fishing line and lead sinkers can do to birds - we felt sad that it was so easy to fill up our plastic grocery bag), I headed us off to wander up a little hollow (holler, as they say here), and again, I'd not gone too far along the creek when I realized, again, that they were not behind me. Nope, they were in the creek, "setting up our house"!
Trout Lilies - we'll have to come back to see these soon
Soon I was completely in my own world (well, not completely. Mom, will you tie this onion grass onto this stick to make a broom? Mom, did you bring any snack? Anything other than apples and almonds? Mom, can we eat this plant?), not breathing deeply and sweating like I had hoped, but engaged in a sphere outside of my head, as drawn to the forest floor as they were to the creek...in the end we all got a little of what we were needing, which is the very best we can hope for some days!