The other morning I went for a walk to the lake.
And then it was so nice that I kept walking. I turned north and walked the gravel road along the lake shore. The houses turned to cottages and then there were no buildings and the road was just a trail that ran along the river.
That was when I was in the woods, which were particularly inviting. The wild leeks were up, on of the first spring plants. I picked a few to eat as I walked, not so much hungry as just wanting to eat something so green and fresh.
There were other spring plants too. Lots of trout lily plants, but only a few flowers in the sunnier spots. Dutchman’s breeches and spring beauties also barely starting to flower.
And animals: a kingfisher along the river, several pairs of wood ducks flushed from the marshy sports as I walked nearby, a turtle out for a stroll, even a fisher patrolling its neighborhood (which I was so happy to get to see, especially when the initial glimpse of dark brown fur didn’t turn out to be a bear cub).
I ended up walking miles, just because I could. I wondered how far I would walk and whether I could cut through the woods to return home a different way. I only turned around when the trail finally turned away from the river and into private land. Then it was time to turn around and see what else I could find.