This past Friday I went for a walk in a forest I haven’t walked through in about 7 years. A forest which, for over 16 years, I had regularly explored in every season with my growing family.
I sat by the pond we skated on in winter; the same pond where twice in springtime we helped a large snapping turtle return to as she was attempting to cross the main road. She was on the last leg of her journey after following her instincts through the dark night to lay her eggs, who knows where, while navigating the subdivision (our home) that now encroached on her ancestral land.
The same forest that helped forge some of my dearest friendships as we walked her meandering trails, allowing for long chats so we could get to know each other better and better. Often I’d go there on my own for exercise or to simply recharge and rebalance.
This forest — a woodlot it’s called, though the name seems too small for all it contains — was right at the end of my street. In fact, part of it was literally in my own backyard. It was a big reason we bought the house we did. A reason that allowed us to make great friends with good neighbours.
After living in the big city these past 7 years, Friday I experienced the forest as I had the first time — struck by its beauty, its deceptive size, its abundance and variety of vegetation and sounds (and lack of sounds too, specifically traffic).
I walked and remembered. I sat and observed. I listened and absorbed.
They say you can’t go home again. Well, I think sometimes you can, if only to appreciate all over again the gifts you’d once grown accustomed to.
Home is wherever your heart is.
For me, on Friday, my heart was present, in the moment, in my forest, grateful for our years together. And my heart and I were happy.
Nature offers so much wisdom.
Here are two nuggets the forest gifted me with on Friday…love notes from Mother Nature.
- Growth happens right where you are, amid sunlight and shadow, as you set down your roots, ever deep and strong, to hold you steady as you reach for the sky, enabling you to sway (not topple) amid winds of change.
2. As I watched a squirrel crawl out toward the edge of a branch near the top of a tall tree:
There’s only so much you can forage on the ground. Dare to climb higher and see what else you can find. Dare to go out on a limb.
I invite you to notice the gifts that are all around you.
What do you appreciate about each?
Have you begun taking any for granted?
I’m here to support you as you create your next chapter, rooted in the gifts of your past and present as you reach for the next limb to climb. Let’s chat.
