This Moon Day I walked out my door and kept walking. I have lived in the White House since May, but never before have I stepped out my door and walked down the hill to the river. My "outdoor time" usually consists of the moments it takes to cross the lawn on my way to work. But on Monday evening I felt something inexplicable pull me out of my apartment and into the magic that is nature. Down an embankment, sheltered by wild trees, cut off from the routine buildings and lawns of Prov, I felt something distantly familiar, something primitive, move in me. That space became all the mythic childhood realms in one: Narnia, Oz, Faerie Land, Terabithia, Wonderland, Fantasia, Neverland! What have I been doing to myself for the past seven years? I have been
living inside. Where did I get the idea that I could do that and not lose my soul? My soul is with the tall trees and the fallen leaves and the moving water.
Sasha and I walked until it got dark and quite cold. We saw old beaver-chewed stumps, a strange viney plant with spiny pods, and the ruinous foundation of a small building. We walked the path between the lilacs and the evergreens, disappearing for awhile. Becoming realer for awhile.
Later that night, I spoke on the phone with my Grandmother, who remembers my childhood ramblings in the woods, and kept diaries of the things I discovered. I used to be an amateur natralist! How did I lose my way? I very enthusiastically join the Otterburne chapter of the Amateur Naturalists, hoping to rediscover more of the magic I once breathed in every day.
The very strange vines with spikey pods--what are they?
A chewed tree! When you get up close, you can see the teeth marks.
