Callahan State Park

Today, hiking at Callahan S.P., I smiled to myself sometimes when imagining a herd of goats at my heals.  This is what I wrote:

I don't know how to describe the breeze blowing across the tops of these trees other than to say it is the forest that is whispering promises of creation-aged secrets.  While low-flying planes sometimes drown out this talk, when all is silent, this forest feels a bit strange - like there are words, or thoughts I should know but my mind can't grasp through its self-inflicting fog.

A chickadee flutters and hops from low pine-less branch to ground to branch, cocking its head to one side, perching horizontally, watching me through gray and black and white feathers.  "Why are you here?"  What a good question.

I can tell you Why I Choose To Be Here, and What I Choose To Do.  To strive to make the world better somehow.  To live a life that I wholly believe is a good life, or at least as close as possible.  To live a lifestyle that is worthy of Nature.  To be a producer of beautiful nourishment for my soul and yours, too.

As I look up I notice dark pink buds at the top of a tree, the sunlight illuminating them from behind.  This forest is still whispering, now speaking to me.  And yet... how I wish I understood!  The clouds seem to be coming in.  One hides my sun.  My feet itch for the trail again.