Walking

It is a moody sort of day. One minute the rain is pouring down - a spirited cascade of silver fireworks splashing against the window panes - and the next the sky, empty of rain, is a tumult of grey and blue, while the wind is tossing the tree boughs with reckless haste. A myriad of clustering raindrops will twinkle in the momentary sunlight, and then it is gone, leaving a grey, misted calm to take its place. That is the way it is now. There is a ring of clouds spreading upward from the horizon, but the center of the sky is a clear evening blue (broken every so often by an intricate design of lacy grey). 

On my walk this afternoon everything was clear, damp and spring-like. The moss carpeting the forest floor was such a vibrant green that it looked almost unreal, and each fresh burst of sunlight revealed tiny green buds lining thin branches; branches which cleverly hid the little singers of the forest. The birds were very good at remaining unseen, though I did notice one tiny creature hopping along in the underbrush, and I could hear them. Once, rounding a bend in the woodland path I often use, I listened to an incredible, sweet bird melody that I can't remember hearing before (but I easily could have, as I don't generally remember very well). And then, just as the bird ended its song, I heard a very different sound: the crack of a branch under a firm hoof. There were three deer, blending into the foliage on my right, walking ever so softly along their own well-used trails. It never ceases to amaze me how graceful deer are, how very gentle their footsteps are as long as they aren't frightened. They were startled to see me, though  they probably noticed me before I did them. But after the initial surprise we just stood there, staring curiously at each other. I took note of their sleek brown grace, and their ears which were so attuned to every bird call, snapping twig, and squirrel barking in the distance. I wonder what they thought of me...