Why walk in the woods?

Gracie and I, busily trying to catch up on our business and personal paperwork, decided that we needed a de-stressing interlude. So off we walked hand in hand on a round trip trek to our mailbox. The mailbox being about a half a mile from our front door.

As we walked down the drive, under the canopy of newly leaved trees, I started wondering why I love to walk in the woods. Instantly, David The Writer started dictating a short essay in my mind, which I am now going to try to recapture on my laptop screen.

Assuming that the weatherman has accurately predicted a day of pleasantly temperatured clement weather, (which he did today) the first thing that strikes me is the breeze ruffling the hair on my arms. Having sailed with my dad as a teenager, I am prone to taking off my ball cap, and letting the wind cool my head as I inwardly gauge how many knots the wind is blowing, and whether there are likely to be whitecaps on the peaks of the waves on a nearby lake. I wonder what my dad, across the Atlantic in Kenya is doing. Wondering if he too is feeling the wind play over his skin and remembering days of bliss sailing under the orange and white sail of our catamaran sailboat.

Then there is the varied warmth and coolness as I walk from sun to shade to sun again. Back and forth from light to shadows, my skin taking turns enjoying first the warming rays of the sun, and then the cooling shade of the trees. It reminds me of the absolute delights that I remember from my childhood, walking hot and sweaty from the bright hot sun into the cool dim house…the lights all off…curtains drawn…and the hum of oscillating fans droning throughout the house…a glass of ice cold lemonade waiting in the fridge.

Then there are the sounds. The occasional bird whistling it’s recurring song. The wind gentle and persistent, moving the fresh green leaves. A hawk calling as it circles over a nearby field. The crunch of our feet beating rhythmically on the gravel driveway.

My nose enjoys the moist fecund smell of the leaves and grass, of the recently rained on earth. My brother and I used to pack a sandwich or some cookies in our pockets when we were boys, and tramp off into the adventurous wilderness of our family land. Over fields, and up hills, down into valleys, and jumping from hummock to tree stump as we navigated across the swamp that bordered one of our pastures. The smells of the swamp and of newly plowed fields, of the river and trees are something that I have lived with all my life.

And the sights of the forest. The shadowed brightness of the sunlit forest. The thousand and one colors of green that combine to make one color.

There is something so basic about being in the woods surrounded by nature. Something more appealing than the "cha-ching" that Quicken makes when a transaction is entered, or the chirping beep that Quickbooks makes each time I fill in a check. But enough procrastinating. I need to let my mind catch up with my body, and get back to the prosaic reality of the world of finances.