Appreciate the Nature Around Us
The simple pleasure of slowing down to notice nature on a summertime stroll.
The remnants of Hurricane Beryl finish moving through my part of the Midwest and the perfect summer day emerges. I’m talking 80 degrees, sunny, blue skies dotted with puffy Cumulus clouds, gorgeous breeze. So, I have an early dinner and take myself on a hot girl walk!
Everyone should do this, especially when the weather hits just right. Usually, my husband and I take a nice brisk walk after dinner, for at least thirty minutes… but tonight, he has some things to do and I opt to go solo. I secure my AirPods, pressed play on my audiobook, and set off to take my regular stroll through the neighborhood.
One of my favorite things about my neighborhood is that it’s quiet, serene. I live in Suburbia, but by the look of my walk today, you wouldn’t know it. We have a nice paved walking path that lines the thoroughfare of our neighborhood. There’s a creek that runs under the main road, cutting its way through a wooded area behind the houses. After a big rain, it rushes through the woods. Today, I could hear it over my audiobook.
That paved walking path at a certain point brings me to a fork — I can either continue on the paved path back toward houses and a retention pond, or I can take this ~scary~ one through the woods. It always looks dark. I have never taken it before but have always suspected people take it on their bikes or when they feel like they want more of a quiet, isolated hike-like experience. With reckless abandon, I surprise myself and walk into the woods. Why not?! I think, turning off my audiobook. I allow nature wrap me in its loving arms and set off down the darkened path.
It wasn’t much more than you see in that photo above, to be honest. Which, LOL, for a moment I actually thought what if this is how it ends? (I watch entirely too many Lifetime movies.) It took like, three minutes to emerge back into a clearing. The robins and doves chirp and coo in the trees above my head and the cicadas sing their summer song. A bunny runs across the path, surprised to see me.
I took at least five minutes to emerge from the path because I see these gorgeous flowers. Fleabane, my iPhone tells me, which is a flower derived from the genus Aster and resembles the daisy. I, of course, stop and snap a couple of shots. Here’s the best one!
These little babes continue to appear throughout my walk and I can’t believe I never noticed them before. They appear by the ponds, too, which I often walk past. Their delicate petals can barely hold the bees that bumble above them. I take a moment to appreciate their simple beauty, growing wild and gorgeous throughout the brush alongside the wooded trail.
Beyond the woods, the clearing is wide and a lovely green space. It doesn’t feel like a suburban neighborhood sometimes. In fact, I am actually able to completely ignore the houses across the street from the clearing and drown out the sound of someone mowing their lawn.
As I walk up the gravel path back toward civilization, I stopped to admire the row of trees that have stood in this spot for years. Some of them, maybe centuries.
“Centuries” might far-fetched, but I know for a fact there are several trees in my neighborhood that have been around since the mid-1800s. There’s a small cemetery close to my house with large oak trees standing tall above the few markers that remain (the legible ones have death dates of 1850 and 1852). This neighborhood was home to at least one large family’s farm that was established well before the Civil War.
I think about that often while walking through the neighborhood — what did this space look like before the sprawling city made its way here? How many farms were decommissioned and sold to make way for the cookie-cutter homes that sit here now? How many fields were plowed for the last time, and when, never to produce corn or beans again?
The sounds of someone mowing start up again and I am brought back to reality, forced to continue my walk. Darn.
I walk around the retention pond and notice a crane fly in, ready to stalk its prey. Bluegill maybe? I’m not entirely sure what the ponds are stocked with at this point. I stop to admire the wildflowers that line the pond, which are left to thrive on their own year after year.
There’s a strict “do not mow” policy in place for our ponds in order to let wildlife thrive in an otherwise suburban environment. I appreciate it deeply, but I know it’s taken for granted when I find myself in these moments.
The sun beats down between the clouds that pass by and it’s the first time on the walk where I don’t feel the breeze. It’s time to head home and clean up. On the remainder of the walk, I quietly reflect on the beauty that surrounds us here. The sunshine on my shoulders, the birds dancing from limb to limb, the squirrels and bunnies that run through our yards. The sights and sounds of wildlife and scents of wildflowers make me happy to call this place my home.
