On My Mind

It is a warm summer day and just the right temperature; maybe it is 85 degrees. As I approach the deciduous forest with its many maple and oak trees, I see the little warn path that marks the entrance. There are so many different shades of green and brown. As I walk into the trees, I can hear the sound of trickling water. The pond is not too far now. I smell the rotting wood and algae from the water mixed with the smell of the rich soil and vibrant trees near me. I sneak up to the shore, making as little sound as possible. However, I can still hear the swish as I brush against the bushes. The birds above drown out any noise I make: chattering away as they dance from tree to tree. A light breeze blows through the trees, rustling the leaves and blowing my hair into my face. It tickles my nose. I observe the trees growing up out of the pond. This is really more of a swamp. Then I see what I was looking for: the little brown head of the beaver swimming toward her dam, nose up and focused. I watch her go about her chores for who knows how long, 10 minutes? Maybe 30? She swims so close to me. Then she dives down and does not reemerge. Time to feed her babies, I suppose. I start to walk across the dam. Careful not to fall into the water, I can feel the loose sticks beneath my feet and hear them crunch under my weight. Little, gray minnows cautiously swim near the sticks I cross, seeking the rich food from moss and algae. I make it to the other side of the pond with only a slight dampness in my shoe. On I go, deeper into the forest, to see what nature holds for me today. Maybe I will find that chattering squirrel.