Walking along the unfamiliar landscape, I felt at times like I was in a valley in the Shenandoah mountains surrounded with mountain laurel and plunge pools. The water was clear and cold yet full of life and the brook trout slammed the bomber time and time again. After the quiet gray of winter, the forest is now coming to life as tiny lilies, wood anemone, and wake robin rise up through the decaying leaves of last fall.
|Wood anemone opening to the late morning sun|
|Wake robin or purple trilium|
Later in the afternoon another stream was visited where wild brown and brook trout coexist. Days like this one are not common, so we savor them with our senses and tuck them away in our memories as days of simplicity, peace, of silence, of life.
Then all the trees of the woods will rejoice before the