‘The woods are lovely, dark and deep’
Published on October 31, 2022 at 1:33pm CDT
From Where I Sit
By Pat Spilseth, Columnist
A shag carpet of red, brown and gold leaves covers my yard this morning. Yesterday’s blustery winds blew not only the leaves but dried my bed sheets on the outdoor clothesline that I string across the deck facing the lake.
Though most folks have winterized and stored their boats by the end of October, a few fishing boats and speedboats cruise the shoreline, making memories of summer sunshine that will warm us when winter breezes stiffen our joints. Ducks, geese and a few loons still swim and bob in the waves. Though the hummingbirds have flown south, we still have bluejays, wrens and cardinals at our rapidly depleting bird feeders. Unfortunately, a trio of crows is still hanging around hogging the feeders and cawing noisily.
“This will probably be the last nice day of fall so let’s sit on the deck”…that’s the refrain Dave and I repeat almost daily. We want to savor fall memories of the boats and skiers on the lake, the birds diving from feeder to feeder, even the cute chipmunks who are almost tame. Chippee and I have a little conversation most mornings as I sip my coffee and enjoy the newspaper and crisp autumn breezes.
Walking in the woods across from our house, I thought about Robert Frost’s poems. As I wandered through the paths lined with tall grasses, maples, pine, birch and spruce, I remembered Frost’s poem “My November Guest:” “The desolate, deserted trees/ The faded earth, the heavy sky…The love of bare, November days before the coming of the snow.”
I remember my daily walks with Buddy, my much loved Beagle, when we’d wander aimlessly through the woods across the street from our home. Though he was a dog, we’d have little conversations as we spied wild flowers nestled under the trees in the summer. In the fall and winter we were delighted to notice footprints of deer, fox and bunnies as well as discovering new walking paths for cross country skiers.
Several years ago my friend Ruth and I took a refreshing morning walk through the wooded trails around her home above the St. Croix River. Some neighbor had set up camouflaged cameras to record the abundant wildlife living in these woods. Tiny mice and bunny tracks and deer tracks enriched our walk. Looking out the windows from inside her home, we saw a deer simply standing still, enjoying the quiet peace of his wooded home. A few summers ago we saw a baby black bear crawling in the birch branches outside her living room window. When mama bear arrived to claim her baby, we were happy to be safely indoors.
Tall slim trees and fluffy pine and spruce lined the trail that we climbed. Because the evergreens were so dense, the lower branches did not get enough sunshine and decayed. Fallen needles make a soft, fragrant path for walkers. What a perfect playground for children. I could imagine kids lying on the soft path looking up through the wooded maze to see various shapes of animals and clowns in the clouds.
A bald eagle soared over us floating in the sky on the wind. Shots of rifles alerted us that hunters in orange garb were nearby, but this was restricted land so we felt safe from the shots that punctuated the silence of the woods. Some neighbors have been getting ready for winter fires, cutting logs for their fireplaces and outdoor fire pits. Inviting wooden benches crossed our path: we took a few minutes to relax and view the golden field of meadow grasses.
How lovely to have a companion in the woods to enjoy the silence. We recognize that life ahead is shorter than our past years of adventures. We shared memories of college days, travels, children and grandkids. Hopefully, we’ll continue to enjoy many more walks together in our favorite woods.
A walk in the woods is a simple cure for many of the ills we encounter in daily life.
Robert Frost’s “Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening” says it best. “The woods are lovely, dark and deep/ But I have promises to keep/ And miles to go before I sleep/ And miles to go before I sleep.”
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To contact Pat, email: pat.spilseth@gmail.com.