I never cease to be amazed and thankful for the trails on our very doorstep. The fragrance of the forest on a warm day, dappled sunlight filtering through trees, the buoyant spring of a pine needle laden trail, pillows of moss, babbling brooks.... it truly is luxury for the soul and the senses.
Cedar boughs reflected in a swampy bit filled with kid-sized skunk cabbage:
Caterpillar exploring the precipice of a weathered footbridge:
Little dogwood stars speckling the undergrowth:
Magical kingdoms of lichen and moss on every rotting stump:
Luminous red berries:
The aforementioned babbling brook, invigorated by the meltwater of a very snowy winter and unusually late spring:
I have lots more to tell you about life and yarn and why I've been kind of absentish for a bit.... but that takes more brainpower than I've got today. Soon.