There are Eyes in the Woods.
- Branch in the woods…claw in the woods?
- Spring song of pussywillows
- Veil of trees in the dim underworld of the woods
- Tiny unfurling lupine. Not much bigger than your thumb.
- Last year’s green spruce needles in this year’s spring puddle
- Last autumn’s reeds draped against sticks in puddle
- Tree and sky reflections in puddle
- Stream at dusk
Reader, shall we walk through the woods? Shall we amble up that hillock and down that ravine? Shall we sit awhile on the damp soil, our jeans getting slightly wet?
What shall we hear at 7:30 p.m. in the Upper Peninsula Woods?
Can you hear that sweet-trilling bird song? Why do the birds sing the sweetest in the springtime? Is it because they are singing their hearts out for their true love?
Do you hear the Canadian geese honking in the distance as they wing north? Can you discern how some of them are resting down on the Huron Bay, gathering energy before spreading wings upward tomorrow?
Did you hear that owl hoot, way to the north? Or was that the sound of neighbor’s children, pretending?
The woods are alive with sound, a cacophony of noise surrounded by deep silence. You can feel the silence everywhere. You can also hear the sounds of spring peepers in some of the vernal pools. You can hear chipmunks scurry in dried autumn leaves. You wait for a deer or raccoon or bear to pass by your damp resting-place, but none appears.
We are so fortunate to have light at 7:30 p.m. at this time of year. It’s still light at 8:30 p.m. It’s dark at 9:30 p.m.
The woods run with streams and puddles everywhere. Walk carefully. Do not slip and tumble against the earth!
There are eyes in the woods following you wherever you go. If that worries you, stay out of the woods. If you want to know the eyes better, if you want to find out what treasures they hide, keep walking.
Spring in the woods is a gift. No mosquitoes. No black flies. No wood ticks. Those creatures are still sleeping, or only blinking their slumbering eyes.
The woods are a haven that helps us breathe slower, deeper, fresher. Silence percolates between our thoughts.
The woods revives and heals, a magic of loamy soil and tall aspen. It is better than your daily vitamin, better than the doctor’s chemical prescription.
Have you had your healing dose of nature today? The eyes in the woods want to know.
