The freezing rain that has been falling since some time in the night, has glazed over my world. A crust of ice on thesnow cracked and crunched as I walked up to the woods on the east border of our property. Ducking briars and slipping on the slick surface, I entered the quiet of the forest-world.
Last summers ferns are dry and golden, but they remind me of the sea of green fronds that I waded through just a few months ago. A vacant bird's nest reminds of the song that filled these nearly silent woods during those summer days. The woods are so quiet on this January afternoon that I can hear the hiss of a chunk of ice as it slides slowly downhill. The rose and blackberry briars pulled my hat off my head several times, as I ducked beneath them to find my way through this little forest without trails.
As I travelled down our back hill toward the swamp and the cornfield where the deer forage and sometimes bed down, I saw unexpected color.
My walk was crunchy, glazed, and serene; kind of a rural northern version of zen.
photos by Aisling, Sunday January 4, 2008