Edda, our Icelandic sheepdog, and I took our usual noon walk the other day. As we came down into the sugar bush and turned toward home, the woods grew dark and it started to rain. I found a big maple with a thick limb sticking out horizontally about seven feet up and ducked in under it.
It was quite pleasant, standing with my back against the tree’s rough bark, the dog sensibly curled up at my feet. I smelled the rain and the moldering leaves on the forest floor, watched yellow and orange leaves side-slipping down, and listened to the bright chattering of raindrops striking the leaves all around. It seems that every time we go out in nature, something wonderful is given to us.
On a recent ramble I took this photo from the top of our hayfield looking east toward Burke Mountain: