In Pursuit of Wonder

April 2023

Walking across the yard, down the road, up the hill and down into the pasture lane, there was no trace of snow. Hints of green could be seen here and there in the grass, though it was not truly greening up just yet. My walk on April 10th was entirely different than that of the first. It had been quite warm this week, the pasture was starting to develop a blush of green, not yet vibrant. The sun shined brightly, the sky clear. The woods glowed in the morning light. I enjoyed the warmth and change in season. Fallen branches lay all over. By the cluster of walnut trees, I pushed the barbed wire fence down and stepped over. I weaved gingerly through the brambles, trying to keep them snagging my pants. It’s amazing how much woodland debris I had been treading on all winter long, branches and logs of all sizes. I had to be more mindful of my steps. I picked my way down the first little gully, and back up the other side, and skirted around a fallen branch. A few paces further, I stepped over a log. Here in the woods, patches of snow persisted in the shaded areas. I bent down to examine moss, excited to find it awake from its winter slumber. It almost looked tropical. (I wish I knew the name of the moss, perhaps it’s not moss at all – some people think the more you know about science the less wondrous it is, but I think it is quite the opposite. Once I know the name of a thing and can learn about it the more wondrous I find it and the easier to connect to it as an amazing being.) I took note of boulders and moss covered logs in the ravine I didn’t know were there. I sauntered under the cathedral arch of bent trees, stepping through a couple piles of rotting snow. Decaying logs dotted the slope above me. The woods were various shades of brown and gray with a little bit of green beginning to show through. Water sat in the ravine, a springtime stream. 

April 14. The landscape has greened even more in the last few days. The pasture grass, though incredibly short, is green. Buds on the trees are beginning to open displaying vibrant yellows and greens. The temperature had reached eighty degrees this week. I walked down to the woods following my usual route, stepping over the fence. I paused to take in the blackcap berry bushes’, the brambles, leaves have burst forth from the bud and unfurled. A severely damaged deer skull lay on the ground, on a pile of broken sticks, amidst the brambles, the eye socket staring up at me. It’s possible I had walked over it many times this winter, the snow cushioned and hid it well. Still looking at the ground, I saw other green plants, new bramble plants, violets, and waterleaf. Wild parsnips sent up new leaves, there’s quite a bit of them on this narrow valley floor – I thought about the logistics of bringing a spade to dig them up; it’s a long way to carry a spade and the edible roots back. My gaze traveled upward. The leaves opening up on the trees were epically beautiful; it felt like a drama was unfolding. But the forest floor drew my attention again; there is so much to discover while looking down. A bright green plant stood out among more muted colors. Its leaves were folded around the stem, reminding me of a mushroom. Another plant I couldn’t identify. – I have so much to learn. Catkins from a tree rested on the ground, like fuzzy white caterpillars. A whorl of new, emerging leaves was a pom pom cheering on spring. A bright red orange spot in the dirt pulled me onward. A mushroom, either orange peel or, more likely, scarlet cup. Spring is so exciting. 

April 17. It snowed yesterday. Not a few flurries or a light dusting, rather several inches that once again transformed the landscape. The temperature dropped nearly fifty degrees in a couple of days to achieve it. The snow had melted considerably but still filled many pockets here and there along the walk, a large drift in the backyard, throughout the pasture, the shaded areas of the woods. The soil was muddy. But the green plants persevered, defying the icy cold. In fact the green contrasted against the white seemed even brighter and more vibrant than before. Will winter finally give up now?