Dropping my daughter off at school today, I noticed some low-lying clouds in the distance. I pointed them out and as she contemplated the scene she remarked, ‘if I didn’t have to go to school today, I’d explore those clouds’. As I pulled away from the school, her comment lingered in my mind. I pondered how often we don’t take the time to explore the simple acts of beauty that nature provides effortlessly. Taking her advice, and a dose of spontaneity, I headed for a hike in the clouds. Luckily, I had my camera on hand.
The familiar woods were incredibly different in the hazy glow. Low visibility created a dream-like state, much like sleep walking. Not knowing what lay each step ahead, the woodland sounds were crisper, the noisemakers invisible, perhaps some deer, or a squirrel, or some other forest creature carrying on its business. Leaves continually spiraling down from the tops of giants (Tulip Poplars in this case) sounded like rain hitting a tin roof, I half expected to feel the smack of large raindrops against my skin. Toward the end of my walk in the woods, the light shifted dramatically, reminding me how quickly things can change.
I imagine these woods are like those that Robert Frost would have liked to visit. The magnetic pull of which I can not explain except to say, they often render me speechless.