Green and Brown

The woods felt exactly like late March today.  Damp and mild, the air was thick with mist in some spots.  Rocks and fallen logs were slick and the moss and ferns were still vibrant green.  The creeks and streams were high, full of run off from all of the rain we have been getting lately.

I walked through the marsh, and up through the woods and rocks, to the top of the rocky hill that overlooks the marsh.   I saw plenty of evidence of animal activity, paths through the leaves, and places where logs had been rubbed bar and branches broken.

As I made my way back down the hillside, I could hear the water from the stream rushing.  I came to it and made my way along it, moving toward the first beaver pond.  The beaver pond is not a pond any more, since the dam is no longer there.  It`s a small valley, surrounded on all sides by steep high banks with a stream running through it.

It`s quiet here and one of my favourite places to visit - probably the place I escape to most.  As I walked back out through the trees and across the fields the fog came in heavier.  I could feel water droplets settling on my eyelashes.  I needed the walk today - a quiet time before the flurry of activity and excitement that Christmas brings.

Quiet

Early this afternoon I set out in the brilliant blue and sparkling white to hike through the woods to the place we call the second beaver pond.

 

As always, I came out of the forest feeling refreshed and so lucky to live in such a beautiful place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Finding Peace

I don't really feel like myself unless I'm engaging in regular physical activity outside.  Snowshoes have recently saved my life.  The vast amount of snow, and until very recently, the temperatures have kept me inside, running only on the treadmill.  That's just not enough.  I need to be outside, among the trees and breathe in clean, fresh air. 

 

In the past week, I've visited almost all of my spring, summer and fall hunts

in the fields and forests across the road.  Yesterday I made it back to the beaver pond and way up high above the marsh.

 

Moving through the forest, in the soft, deep snow, there is just the shush, shush, shush of my snowshoes.  At the pond it is completely silent.  A place to be alone with my thoughts.

 

Something has been missing since Christmas, but I've found it again, and all it took was for me to get outside.

 

 

 

 

The Old Logging Trail

This morning we set out for a hike along the old logging trail behind my in law's  house.

 

The trail was (and still is) used as access to the woodlot, and about twenty years ago was logged commercially.  The ruts you see in this picture were created twenty years ago.

We supplement our oil heat with wood, so the trees back here are of interest to us.  Rick and his dad cut selectively, only taking trees that have come down on their own, or are old and dying.  There are some very old trees here, some far too large to cut down.

Running parallel to the trail is the small river that connects the beaver ponds.  We were beyond the second beaver pond when I heard water rushing.  I made my way toward the sound and could see farther up where the water opened up into yet another beaver pond.  We didn't go much father than this, but there is still plenty of exploring to do.

Exploring

Late afternoon on Monday, as the wind howled and the rain snow mix came down, I hiked out to what we call the second beaver pond.  I've already detailed finding the first beaver pond.  You can see on this satellite image the two ponds.  The second is much larger than the first right now.  It resembles a river, really.  At the south end, there's a huge rocky outcrop and a small waterfall. 

It's much more vast than I had imagined, and again, I feel so lucky to be able to visit these places whenever I wish.

Next up?  Following the creek farther south to see what's around the next bend.

Back to the Beaver Pond

We took a family hike back to the beaver pond yesterday afternoon.  I wore Henry in my new back pack carrier - I love it!