Back To My Neighbor’s Woods

The underside of a mushroom growing on a tree

No words came to me as I walked through our neighbor’s woods.  I hadn’t been there all winter, but now that the ticks are back, I’m walking their paths again. Much has changed since I was there last.

But much is still the same.

the mushroom tree

I visited with some trees that I consider my old friends.  But I also spotted this dying tree for the first time.  I thought it elegant with the bluish-gray mushroom sprouting from it like umbrellas or skirts.

I must have had sewing on my mind because this tree loaded with a different kind of mushroom made me think of a lacy gown.

Rue Anemone sprouting in the moss growing on the trunk of a tree

I’ve become quite close to these woods and coming back to them is like taking a long deep breath. I settle in, knowing the paths but not deciding which to follow until I get to a crossroads.  The dogs run ahead but I pay little attention to them.  Only when I stop to look more closely at a flower or tree or take a picture,  does Fate circle back and push her face into mine.

I guess to let me know she is still there.

The birds were quiet and these woods have little water the deep I go into them, so there are no frogs either.

But quiet is fine with me. I feel quiet too. Walking slowly, seeing wide, allowing my body blend into the wonders around me.

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