Running in the Woods

One day it's Labor Day, the next it's Thanksgiving - - - now another year has passed. When I was a child, time passed so slowly; now that I have the wisdom to appreciate it, well, you know.

This feeling makes me especially appreciative of the one place where time seems to slow down. When I am in the woods, running off road on a trail, I can forget the busy streets, the sound of cars and voices, my hectic schedule, that 'to do' list; I become more mellow with every mile.

I am always moved by the beauty of the woods, but I am saddened that so many people don't appreciate it; their eyes don't seem to catch it. They are too anxious to find the end of the trail and get back to their list. But like so much that matters in life, this run is about the trip not the end.

My eyes spy a delicate vine wound delicately around a spindly tree, each tendril exactly parallel to the next as if wound precisely by some deft hand, then on a gnarly tree root rising out of vivid foliage only to disappear into another patch a few feet away. A shiny, worn root reaches across the trail, looking so much like a slippery black racer that I have to do a double take. No, it's not a snake, not this time, just a root. But isn't nature amazing, camouflaging snakes to look so much like roots?

I spot a tiny, striking butterfly visiting an equally tiny flower. My iPhone/camera is out in a flash, but the butterfly has already moved on. I won't record him today. As I gaze at the leaves a few feet away, I am impressed that some of the leaves are dotted with mottled brown spots, in a pleasing collection of colors that look remarkably like that butterfly. I'd like to decorate a room in those colors. There's probably a paint card at Lowe's with that exact collection. There should be.

It's especially lovely here today because it's overcast and it's been raining. Every color is more intense because everything is wet. There's no sun to wash out the color. It's as if I'm looking through dark sunglasses that intensify every hue. Have you ever taken off your sunglasses and thought, gee that's not nearly so pretty as I thought? Well, today, it is that pretty, really.

A young palmetto leaf, pristine and new looking, has sprouted from one of the bold, rusty roots jabbing into the path before me. The color of the fan is so vivid; the green of every fold is made slightly different by the angle of the light striking it.

What's that? Ooooooh! I know that sticky, creepy feeling. It's a spider web - or part of one - better keep my eyes open. Don't want any surprises.

As I jog by, I look to my left down a path to the lake. The pine needles are browner than usual, the grass along the perimeter greener, and the lake bluer. Overwhelmed, I want to nudge someone and say, "Look at that! Look at the colors!" But I am alone. I wonder why this trail is not crowded with runners and hikers enjoying this show. I've got this all to myself. That should make me happy, but instead I'm sad that others can't appreciate it - or won't.

I understand that they are busy. There's family, work, so many stressful responsibilities, but I think if they would just come here, just hike once around, they would find the woods possess the same magical, soul comforting effect as yoga.

You dash into class during a window in your schedule. Yoga is an item on the list. But by the time the hour long class is over, you've forgotten you ever had a list, and that is why you go because that is what yoga does to you.

The woods do that to me.

I run up a hill, around a corner, past the clearing where the Boy Scouts camp, the 2.0 miles sign, almost back to the water kiosk that marks the start of the trail. Think I'll go round again.