I woke this morning with anixiety in my chest and a weight on my shoulders. It was just a typical day, nothing that should make me feel so out of sorts. As I made myself a cup of coffee and stared into the sink that was already filled with dishes, I realized it was the ever growing list of burdens I place on myself. Things that only I feel I need to accomplish, that I think, only I can do. A walk in the woods early on an autumn morning was what I needed. My list could wait along with the dishes. I grabbed my husbands fleece lined flannel that he keeps hanging by the door, my coffee and Dutch.
We head out. Dutch is always more than willing to walk in the woods and I love his company.
We find a hunters stand in a tree. I try not to think about what that means.
In a few more weeks the trees should be filled with color.
A bridge over my head.
Dutch is on the trail of something.
A shiver runs down my spine as I realize what Dutch found.
Bones. Possibly the remains from the goat farm down the street?
I pick up my pace and hurry Dutch along making a note in my head to stay away from this dismal, haunting part of the woods.
I wonder if this was once two trees that have now become one. Like a man and women after 30 years of marriage.
Twisted trees that block my path, making me crawl below or climb above.
Old stone walls. Who put them there, how long ago, why?
Dark rich soil. The earthy smell of composting leaves, of beginnings and of ends.
A fairy door? Another world hidden deep inside, a wonderland?
A wart on a tree.
More rock walls and an abandoned tree fort.
A sea of ferns.