It’s right in
the middle. Number 15. For some reason I think of the Van Morrison song Snow in
San Anselmo. What a beautiful song as are all of his songs. They have the
heart, soul, which many things do, - but he has a huge extra sprinkling of magic.
Well we went to the fields and the snow was not present at first, - just some
drizzle, then nothing, then drizzle. But finally it came down. The dogs seemed
to like it. Well, Tessa takes everything in stride, - ha- quite literally, -
and Wolfie is borne for the snow, - so gets excited. Maybe he thought it was
winter again.
We did veer off
and headed into a pathway we had never been before. At the outskirts, the
perimeter of the back of the fields, there is an opening. If you go twenty feet
in, it looks like full forest, meaning no real pathway, - and most adventurers
would just turn around. But there is a small, almost imperceptible pathway
there, - and if you push through, - a whole new world of a forest opens up.
There was a downwards way, and some fallen trees, and then a small water bed.
Hills all around once you enter a sort of miniature valley…
We went and went
and went, - say about fifteen minutes. But, - like chasing a butterfly, I
figured we could get lost- each corner promising some magical thing- sure, -
but everything looked the same. Internal compass wise, - I knew also we were
headed as the crow flies, in the opposite direction of where we eventually
would have to get back to. So, with a couple snapshots and glances around on my
part, - sniffs and runs around on theirs, I headed us out again.
Once we entered
the open spaces I saw tall Birches that had been permanently bent over like
bows. They had become this way from some wind at some point, and could not seem
to straighten themselves out. Other than that, more of the regular scenes…the
myriad pine cones, the sky (today obviously overcast and laden with heaviness
and its dark mood), summits, Pines themselves, the forest surrounding us, some
posts, bird houses vacant, old fences, little wildflowers that had seemed to
live, some that had died or at least curled up upon themselves. How they must
have been shocked and shivered in the night and its temperature drop.
No fox, coyote
or other today. Maybe even they wondered what the heck was going on with snow
in middle May and stayed in their dens, holes, and so on…
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