Just a Simple Walk in the Woods

This morning, on the day after spring officially began, I went for a short little walk in the woods. Here in central Ohio, the signs of spring have begun, but are still mostly in the "peer closely or you may not see" stage. The forest is still a skeleton of twiggy branches, brown leaves spread across the floor. So I walked slowly, deliberately, intent to find small moments that helped hope unfurl in my heart.

First it was a vignette of uncurling fleshy leaves, all in that spring bright vivid color that cannot be matched by any other season. Skunk cabbage my phone may call it, but my heart didn't feel stinky about this discovery at all.

Nearby were two tightly curled green nodules, ombre-ing to a vivid yellow at their centers. 

And of course, the most obvious green of the impending spring was the moss, turned chlorophyll bright with the changing weather, feathering out across the bark. 

This little sprout was so beautiful, bright green against the rain dark dirt and leaf litter. I could practically feel him twisting and wriggling like a worm, ready to grow and unfurl.

This nodule on a tree overflowed with moss as well, like a natural cauldron of plenty.

I went to the creek, and spent some time rock hunting, back bent and gazing at the ground at my feet, crouching like a forest creature with my skirt and coat hems damp from where they skimmed the water.

At one point, a friendly man walked across the stream nearby, his black labrador running to me for a brush-by of my hand. As he walked away he called back to his companion to come, "bring a rock if you want." And the dog scooped his snout into the water and bracketed his teeth around a large specimen, running after his owner. I'd found a kindred stone seeker.

Here is my favorite find: a tiny rock in the shape of a faerie wing. This was all I found by the river today...this and one little yellow stone in the shape of a piece of corn. I sang to the water as an offering after I found those two, and afterward I found two almost-hag stones. The message seemed clear: don't wait until you find something precious to leave your offerings. They should never be dependent on success. Nature deserves your offerings first, given in gratitude with no expectations for recompense. 

On the way back to my car, I basked in the glimmering dewy glistening petals of celandine along the path. 

It was just a simple forest walk, but when you go to the woods with an open heart and no expectations, you often find small magics.