I love walking and running in the forest so much. Since I haven’t done it in a while, I’ve promised myself to go to one at least twice a month. And because I’ve recently discovered the wonderful Mary Oliver, here’s a poem to accompany the photos.
How I go to the woods
Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single
friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore
I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds
or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of
praying, as you no doubt have yours.
Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit
on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,
until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost
unhearable sound of the roses singing.
If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love
you very much.
― Mary Oliver