Anyone who knows me well, knows I like to take hikes through the woods. It’s the only remedy I know of to clear ones head. A solitary walk to leave behind those bothersome synapses buzzing around in my brain like killer bees. So I bury them under the tree across the way until the roots grow around them, strangling them until there is nothing left. Or drop them on a path like a lost mitten or a lone sock–we all know those are never found!
I came in search of some color, but it hasn’t arrived here in South Jersey as of yet. Nature is still holding out like all the beachgoers who sit with beach towels draped across their legs to ward off the nippy wind. Faces turned toward the sun like sunflowers.
After only ten minutes or so, my mind is on more positive thoughts. Mother Nature has taken me into her fold, smoothed my furrowed brow, massaged my temples with a gentle breeze. Ahhhhhhhhh.
Walking deeper into the village I discovered a brown, crispy leaf wedged between a window frame, waiting to be photographed (“Me, me. Look at me!), So I did. I don’t blame him, not wanting to become compost just yet—just like the lot of us. It’s Autumn for him . . . and me.
I’ve been here many times before, an historic village with a lake and hiking trails. I wished I had my kayak with me just to paddle around and around in circles on the lake. I suppose it would be my way of unwinding! The rhythm of the paddling and gentle swells of the water lulling me somewhat.
I like these alleys where one can sneak preview to the other side. (Would I ever want to do that with my life?) I thought about wedging my body through the opening, just because . . . but didn’t want to look foolish if I were to get caught. It amused me for a bit just thinking about it.
What’s really nice about the tack room here at Batsto is that all of the hanging contraptions mean that the horses are free of them. I do, however, admire the handiwork of vintage materials. So much pride and hard work went into utilitarian objects, unlike all the dishonest plastic molded by machines that spit them out like unwanted seeds.
The only other person there for a time was this lone guy fishing in a canoe. I circled the lake trying to get a decent shot of him but didn’t want to disturb him. He has the right to his privacy just as I did laying on the forest floor unsuccessfully trying to get a shot of a miniature plant. We’re both on separate quests.
I’ve seen this evergreen before and don’t know if it is a bi-colored tree or if it is in the throes of shedding—not sure. (I deal largely with petals!) But I like the contrast, like I like other bi-colored things and beings.
Upon my departure from the village, I encountered a mass of color. Ferns. (Thanks for the cooperation, Guys!) It punctuated my visit with an exclamation mark until I singled them out.
I hope you’ve enjoyed the walk. Forgive me for being a bit pensive but, you see, I’m all over it . . . now.
Daily Gratitude: Ocean City friends; Dapper G ∞; my camera
ps We’re off to Cuba on Tuesday. I hope I can blog from there.
Quote of the Day for YOU: To give vent now and then to his feelings, whether of pleasure or discontent, is a great ease to a man’s heart. ~Francesco Guicciardini