The Abandoned Plan

Part One: The Distraction

I picked up that lump of moss as I left the house and I'm afraid that was the end of me.  Or rather the end of my training session.  My eyes wandered to the green brilliance around me.  I soon found that instead of heading to the gym I had merely reached the edge of the driveway, where it meets the forest surrounding Yorkwood cottage. 

Part Two: The Sign

From a distance I had seen "Private Property" and "Absolutely No...." and assumed it merely forbade trespassers.  This rainy day, I was enchanted by the vigorous greens and the dark, water-stained trunks of the trees.  After living here for two semesters and only days before my departure, I finally ventured near enough to read the small print.

 I left him behind.  He waited patiently for my return, loyal thing.  

Part Three: The Captivation

 Magnificent creatures camouflaged on gnarly bark.  Wriggling roots.  Water droplets paused on the tips of pine needles.  These bits of my adventure apparently didn't interest my iPhone camera.  He simply refused to focus, distracted thing.  Well, I guess I can't be the one to blame him...

Part Four: Stepping Gingerly

I feared damaging the forest and made great effort to walk gently across the leaves.  Thankfully they were soft and wet with the rain so I didn't fear crunching them.  Each time a twig snapped beneath my feet I thought, guiltily, back to the sign.

I came down near the river and crouched on the bank for a while.  So alone, yet not lonely in the least.  I felt at home, and I was.  How sad that I didn't spend more time in the woods comprising the backyard of my college home.  I simply hadn't read the small print.

I was slapped now and then by a cool raindrop, but otherwise I kept warm enough in my sweatshirt.  I savored the pattering rain, the steady chatter of the stream, and the rhythmic music of one inspired bird.  The simply wonderful wetness of the world kept me distracted from the low temperature for a half hour before my feet began to cramp under my own weight.

Moving on deeper down toward the stream, I kept worrying.  Possibly I read the sign incorrectly and overlooked the smaller print about being eaten by a ferocious Yorkwood forest dragon if I dared enter and was caught, my violations exposed by a trail of crushed pinecones and broken sticks.  In the end no beast arrived to hinder me, although my eye was nearly jabbed out by a branch.

 I finally realized I was cold when I attempted to take a panorama by the river and couldn't keep from shaking.  After numerous attempts, I finally sat right down in the wet leaves and pine needles (hoping they didn't feel too smashed!), tensed my arms, held my breath, and stiffly twisted around, trying to muster enough steadiness... 

As I observe it again, the right side of the image is blurred, so I must have shivered or lost my breath at the end.  Obviously no photo will bring you to the forest edge with me.  Still I find myself trying so hard to share beauty as soon as I find it.  I thought I enjoyed the aloneness, yet here I am, putting so much effort into this post.  Hm.

Part Five: The Return

Soccer ball waits cheerfully for me amongst the pinecones, and the cottage beckons me in from the cold.