I found myself yesterday rocking back and forth on my heels in the land that time forgot. A land full of Sphagnum and Club Moss, in a mix of Sand and Bog where every step leaves its own water - filled impression. Where those familiar Eyelash - lined Clam Shells peek through Pine straw and Grasses, their Red Maws contrasting starkly with the off - colored winter plant bodies . The land of the Venus Flytrap, a land so Barren of soil nutrients that an Oddball Collection of Bizarre Specimens evolved to catch insects to nourish themselves with the nitrogen so necessary to sustain life. Plants that include not only the VFTS but Pitcher Plants and tiny Sundews that live unnoticed under foot. It's a World unto itself and I travel there frequently, marveling @ the wonder that is Nature right in my own backyard. As a point of interest, patterns and textures replace the bright colors of the still active VFTS in the dehydrated pendulous flowers of a Pitcher Plant. What a bizarre world we have here with our myriad of carnivorous plants that through ingenuity and adaption have managed to survive and even thrive in this harsh environment of ours.
There's a Calm that Encompasses when you leave the Pavement behind and hit Ruts and Washboards that Rattle your Truck and your Brain , Shaking Loose the Cobwebs of Complacency . Overhanging Branches Take you into their Cathedral Embrace , Soothing Ruffled Psyches and Feathers alike . Time and Treks Slow , Dusty Yellow , Purple and White Wildflowers Appear like Magic in the Ditches . Occasionally , Wild Turkey or Deer Materialize Inciting a Riot of Sound and Activity with my Shotgun Rider as she Frantically Scrambles to Retain them in her Scent and Sight . Nostrils Quivering , Eyes Blazing and Howling like a Banshee , she Leaps from front seat to back and front again , checking each partially opened window for the best Vantage Point as we Crawl Past them . We each Take away what we need the Most --
Hazel the Exhilaration of the Hunt and Me the Quest for Peace that can Only be Found in Nature ... There’s nothing like a Frosty Pre-Dawn walk in the woods with a little Black Hound Dog to invigorate the Body and the Mind. Once under the Cover of Holly and Pine the Scents come Flooding into my Brain, Stimulating a Primordial Sense of Belonging in Nature, a Camaraderie with Birds and Beast alike. Walking a Deserted Dirt Path, I hear a pack of Coyotes in the Distance, yipping and yarooing their own Special Songs. The Sounds Stop my companion in her Tracks as she Scents the Air with Nostrils Flaring and Nose Raised to the Heavens. Contented they Pose No Immediate Threat, she Follows me Deeper into the Forest. In a Clearing, I watch hundreds of Blackbirds in Murmuration, dipping and swooping and diving as One as they loudly Announce their Presence in my space. Crows Caw in the distance back and forth in the tree tops and Songbirds chatter Low in the background. I see the Vapor Trails of my own Breath in the Still Morning Air and Hear the Huff of Hazel Mae as she Snuffles the Trails of Animals left from the night before. As the Cold Pale Light Finally Breaks through the Underbrush All is Hushed as if in Reverence to the Rising of the Sunday Morning Sun. Take the Time to Notice the Connectivity of Us All and be Grateful for the Silence and the Peace, no matter how Fleeting. It is here that the Soul is Restored and Able to pick up the Pieces to Carry On… |