Woods in Winter

On Friday, the sun shone, a slight breeze blew, the air was crisp and cool.

I had my to do list ready.  Things that weren't arbitrary.  Things like cleaning bathrooms.  Changing sheets.  Washing dishes.

Youngest Son suggested a walk in the woods.

I was torn.  A walk in the woods, breathing fresh air, drinking in nature.  Home responsibilities.

The walk it was.  Of course.

And we were off.  I was glad I made that choice the moment we walked out into the sunshine.

The woods were full of treats for the discovering . . . flowers drying to a crumble on barren twigs, bright holly berries, gently blowing dried grasses, minuscule purple flowers cupped in green ruffled leaves  shelf fungus thickly dressing a log, blue-black berries, dried seed pods hanging delicately from their stems, pine cones, mossy logs.  

A delightful tangle of the woods in winter.

I love to watch Youngest Son in nature.

He is enthralled by it.  Senses slowly soaking it in.

And now that he has discovered the camera, his eye catches two bent trees making an "X" in the sky, the sun glinting on the surface of the creek, clouds leaving a fading trail as they puff across the sky.

The woods enchanted us . . . transformed us from irritable children and overworked mom to co-conspirators  on a secret adventure.

I even saw Youngest Son offer to hold Youngest Daughter's carefully collected dandelion as she crossed the creek.

Proof of enchantment to be sure.

We trotted back to the house chattering about things found, things discovered, things captured on camera.  A buzz of talk inspired by the quiet beauty of winter woods.

The toilets, laundry and dishes waited.  I thought they would.