On the Menu

Pancakes, not rabbits.  Real maple syrup and pecans and fresh berries.  And there are animals on our table watching us eat.  My mother makes the table pretty.  And my dad makes lovely breakfasts.  All this to say, I'm home.    

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.

Marvel

 "For all find what they truly seek..." - C.S. Lewis, The Last Battle

 

Countless stunning objects hide in the dark layers of decaying forest floor.  I was so caught up in their details that I eventually forgot about sketching.  A few blank pages left at the end of my sketchbook provided a clean backdrop on which to explore their folding, curling forms.  My friend meanwhile read aloud the final 6 chapters of The Last Battle.

When the story drew near its end, the air was chilled and the pages became stained with a blue that changed shade as the evening settled in.  

And just to show you how small these little leafy treasures actually were... 

Fallen Beest

Streetwise at Night

It seems the latest craze among the forest creatures is dallying, stone-still in roadways.  

 

Fortunately I noticed his crouching figure despite the darkness.  He didn't respond to my stroking and nudging and I'm certain he wouldn't have budged for an approaching car.  Picking him up proved difficult, not that he struggled, but because he flattened himself determinedly to the road.  If he was hoping I'd think him inanimate and leave him alone, he clearly believed the neighbor cat less gullible.  Her meow broke the silence.  Instantly perking up, he revealed his spiritedness; his eyes brightened, and he sprung energetically into the grass before the cat even entered the lamplight.  

I only wish I knew what whimsies were in that toad's head.

Bright Thing

His utter calm and idleness contrasted so starkly to my panic and growing terror of missing my college commencement ceremony... I found him irresistible.  My bundle of cap and gown and whatever else I was carrying was placed haphazardly on the sidewalk so I could use both hands to lift this delicate, bright creature.  He lingered for a moment before darting off my hand into the greenery by the path.  He was safe, and I was late.

I only hope I didn't draw as much attention as I raced down the sidewalk; Untied and flowing, my hair is nearly as bright as the newt when the sun is shining!

Days later I remembered his name.  A red eft.  He is a young newt, with many adventures ahead of him.  It's an exciting stage, and yet I couldn't blame him for merely sitting in the middle of the path, unsure of what to do with himself.

Dinner Chat

Opinions were shared regarding edible nuts which instantly dry out one's mouth upon consumption.  We listened respectfully to the Chipmunk King (at least, he claimed to be).