My husband and I walk a wooded lake trail not too far from where we live. Every time we visit is different. Turtles hang out on floating logs on sunny days. Songbirds often can be heard. Periodically we see ducks, geese, egrets, herons, hawks and crows. Groups of deer can be seen watching from a safe distance every so often. Once we noticed a muskrat at the edge of the lake paddling furiously away.
The small lake itself is ever changing, down or up, green or brown, depending upon area rainfall. Trees fall then rot, and new trees appear. Tall grasses grow and recede as do water plants at the lake’s edge. Most hardwoods are bare now at the end of winter except for a few dead leaves. Soon they will be putting out catkins and new leaves. Already there are a few early bloomers.
When it’s just us, or only a few others are fishing or walking in the distance, we have more chance to submerge ourselves in the sights and sounds of the lake and truly relax. We also tend to say whatever comes to mind, and that freedom of mind spurs us to ask "what if." Those questions have changed our lives. It was at the lake during the early days of the pandemic that we first began brainstorming about additional ways to get outdoors.
As we discussed our options, we eventually decided to buy kayaks, which we did and continue to enjoy. Then we talked about trying our hand at shooting sporting clays, which we also pursued. Later came hunting, trapping and fishing. Our walking place became our lake of discovery, not just for the wonderful flora and fauna we observe, but also for generating our plans and dreams. It continues to be.
Photos by Kathy Hagood