September Again…

I thought my quest to blog my woods for one year was finished, until I stole an hour this week and snuck off to enjoy the trails alone. I wasn’t walking with an eye to write, but attempting to capture the woods in words has become more habit than quest, it would seem. The trees and the birds and the sky glimmering through branches scribble thoughts and phrases into my head as I amble along the trails. I cannot shush their voices. They have so much to say, in their strangely unworded ways.

The woods are loud in September. The harsh grating of insect wings, the rough hollering of the raucous jays, the surprisingly loud clattering and thuds of nuts and wild apples as they crash through the branches and hit the ground….the embittered squirrel sitting boldly on its branch, chattering and cussing at me for daring to pass beneath its tree, and already, the dry crushing of trodden leaves, already thick on the trails. A red-headed woodpecker taps at a tree like an elven shoe-maker with a tiny hammer. He ascends the tree in spirals, hopping along the bark as though little stairs had been carved into it. Finally reaching the top, he tosses himself into the air and lights off.

There is a little more sky visible through the branches. The leaves are thinning, although still so green in many of the trees. When the wind heaves a little sigh, it sends delicate showers of golden leaves spinning down through the light, some of them lightly brushing against my arms and trying to cling to my hair. Some land in the creek, launching off in the dark ripples, borne over wet stones and away.

The steady sun stirs up fall odours from the earth–leaf musk and fallen apples, fungi and something onion-y. In the pine-scented church, a choir of ghostly mushrooms bend their heads in a silent prayer. I tiptoe past them.

The underbrush is a tangle of weeds and choking grapevines and clusters of berries, threading the bushes with dark blue and scarlet. The thorny vines encroach the trails, trying to clutch at skin and clothing. Everything is thickening, and yet thinning, at the same time…the woods is a little confused in September. It doesn’t know whether to let go or bring forth, so it does a little of both. October will be here soon enough to bring everything to its colourful conclusion and ease the woods into its long rest.

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1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Lucy
    Sep 30, 2011 @ 19:21:31

    The writer….at her finest once again!

    Your words inspire gratitude!

    Reply

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