ON WINTERGREEN HILL

WINTERGREEN BERRIES & WINDFALLS

As I journal today on our back twenty, near wintergreen hill, a cackling squirrel scoots down a nearby oak tree.  He fades into the forest with a mysterious morsel in his mouth.  Temps are in the 30's and there's an extreme stillness in the air.  It's so quiet I can hear my pencil squawk as I write, and that upsets me.  It's not a sound that fits into the moment.

I watched an owl fly overhead on my walk to little wintergreen hill this afternoon.  The majestic owl was being harassed by a couple of crows, the usual ones you know, like people we call bullies.  I know the owl will be alright; we can't change the nature of the bully crows.  It's better to reflect on how beautiful their feathers shine in the bright sunlight then to dwell on their meanness.  

This little bump in the woods that I sit by is covered with wintergreen leaves and their sparse but red, delicious berries.  That's how it got it's name.  My sister calls wintergreen berries nature's breath fresheners.  They have a delightful and mild, minty taste.  Today a couple inches of snow cover up the green leaves of the wintergreen plants... but I know they'll reappear in the springtime as soon as the snow thaws. 
 
How did wintergreen hill come to be?  I'd guess it was created over a hundred years ago by a windfall, a large tree blown over by high winds, leaving it's huge root mass jutting out atop the ground.  Although it may appear to be an insignificant bump in the woodland floor, it's an important landmark to me simply because I can always count on it being there.  If you're a woodland walker, you'll know what I mean.

As the sun sets, a chill comes over me, prompting a walk back to a warmer spot.  I hope the owl has found some peace and quiet by now... I know I have.