A Morning Walk in the Woods
It’s no exaggeration to say that I had been looking forward to this walk all week. Checking out the forecast on Monday, I saw that Friday would finally bring the spring temperatures and sunshine for which we’d all been longing. With the day off on Friday, I’d be able to soak it in.
My Instagram posts over the past few weeks reflect my fixation with the coming spring, On morning dog walks I’ve been seeking out the blossoms of spring, even in the midst of snow and ice. My eagerness to capture digital reminders of the first signs of spring played out in numerous tug-of-war battles with Lola as she tried to chase scents and squirrels while I tried to capture morning light glistening off a quince blossom or a budding leaf.
Waking up on Friday morning, all looked good for a visit to one or two of our favorite trails in Rock Creek Park. The weather was warm and the morning clouds burning off. After a leisurely morning, we headed out after rush hour, making the short drive to our usual launching point at Pierce Mill. Seeking to avoid construction noise on Beach Drive, we went south on a section the Western Ridge Trail that we had not hit yet this season. The sun was bright and the park relatively quiet. Soon, Lola was sniffing and I was strolling and snapping.
Every year, I look forward to those days when the leaves are so new and soft that the light shines through and they glow a bright chartreuse. These juvenile leaves are reminders that we are at the very beginning of two seasons of warm weather and long days — true delights for this boy of summer. The section of the trail we walked is marked “strenuous” for all the ups and downs, but it’s not too hard, except when Lola pulls as I try to scramble down rock stairs or over webs of exposed tree roots.
As we hiked, I found all that I’d been hoping for all week. A chance to linger in the warmth, areas of the forest floor carpeted in small wildflowers, and even the unexpected pleasure of discovering a short trail I’d I never noticed in previous walks. Along with the joy of discovery, the trial brought us past a small tree still holding on to last year’s leaves. The skeleton leaves shimmered in the light, reminders that the chartreuse leaves all around were, like every living thing, only temporary.
Though the walk had offered all that I’d longed for during week and even some surprises, I left disappointed. I left with the same feeling I’d had on some Christmas mornings when the hoped-for present was the wrong color or the wrong size — or the right color and the right size, but somehow not enough. The park gave me everything I’d asked for, but I wanted more — more leaves on the trees, more quiet on the trails, more peace in my soul.
Driving home, I was curious about what caused the disappointment. What is it that calls to us to want more than enough? To want more even than asked for? What causes us to fixate on what’s missing, rather than what’s present? Especially when what is present is beautiful.
I reached no answers, though I imagine it had more to do with something missing inside myself that day, as there was certainly nothing missing in nature. In my deepest heart, I also believe there was nothing missing in me, but often it is hard to hold on to that belief.
Whatever the disappointment on Friday, I got up on Saturday, grateful for a sunny blue sky and sidewalks full of blooming trees as Lola and I ventured out eagerly for a long walk along city streets coming to life on a bright spring morning.
