My head is so full of my work, the challenge is for me to be able to see what is in front of me.
What makes it easy, is that the difference in the woods this morning is extreme. For months the snow was so deep I could only slowly plod along on snowshoes or sink deep with each step of my boot.
Suddenly there is snow only in the shadows.
Now I know the chipmunks and squirrels are there, not because I see their footprints in the snow, but because I hear their squeaks of alarm, I see a flicker of movement from the corner of my eye, near the small dark hole in the ground.
Two days ago I walked over the frozen snow covered stream and didn’t even know it. Now it roars in a deafening rush.
Look at me now, it says, awake again after a dark and nourishing sleep.
My body stirs with the earths quickening. I move with ease, my legs dancing the ground beneath my feet. My heart drumming in celebration.
Look at me now, I think out loud.
I unzip my jacket and let the cold morning air in. I wipe snot from my nose with the back of my glove and float with the wind through the tallest pines. The same ones who were dangerously green while the rest of the world was glaringly white.
Even the quiet stream, dry for two years now cries with joy.
Look at us now, I say to the earth sucking at my boots, to the trees, last years leaves, the rocks and sky.
love this musing Maria
I’ve been meaning to ask you…have you seen any additional signs of otter activity since you saw some footprints/belly-slide marks awhile back?
I haven’t seen any foot prints in a long time. The last were some walking along the frozen stream. But yesterday I saw a slide in the mud on the bank of the stream. I don’t know if it’s the otter, but it looked like it could be. I did’t see any footprints. I’ll keep looking though.
I can almost feel the cool air in my lungs and sliding across my face. And the sound of the water makes me feel it’s movement, rushing to where it will more quietly slide into the sea.
That’s beautiful Sandy. Makes me slow down a bit.