There is a small patch of forest at the edge of my parents property that I would explore on solitary afternoons growing up. I was both terrified and eager to run across a shady character while wandering, maybe a bank robber hiding out, or man outrunning his past. I never found anything more exciting than a small grove of trees the older kids used to drink alcohol pilfered from their parents.
Today, as the sun ducked low behind the trees I grabbed my camera and revisited the woods of my childhood. This time I was searching for color. It is too warm to snow, but the rain is not being shy at all. The ground is soggy and everything is brown. I spent about an hour in the woods taking pictures of anything that showed signs of life, and taking a couple of ungraceful falls along the way.
I was surprised at the variety of color and life in the woods. I was being far too loud to sneak up on any wildlife, but I found all kinds of beautiful fungi, moss, and plants. It felt good to be out in nature, not hiking toward a destination, but meandering through the trees and watching the way the light changed as the sun set.
I meant to walk around the neighborhood this evening to get pictures of the Christmas lights, but tonight I am satisfied with the quiet beauty I found in the woods.