SPIDERS' WEBS FILLED WITH DEW

This morning I'm sitting with my journal across Tom's Creek, near the Nickel Stand, on an old rotting pine tree that took a tumble many years ago.  This damp and cool morn is filled with pleasant sounds and fresh earthy aromas as I enjoy the bright green sphagnum moss around me.  This is a spot I couldn't linger at a few weeks ago as the mosquitoes would've carried me away.  Today, a bugless day, is a gift of late summer.




On my jaunt here,  I noticed a bright and beautiful pink flower or "weed" that shows itself along the creek banks this time of year.  It's called swamp smartweed.


To get up close and personal to this flower, I held my arms high and trudged through the wet ferns, nettles, and briars. My jeans and shoes were soaked, but of course, it was worth my efforts.

After crossing Tom's Creek, now shallow with merely a trickle of water flowing, I continued my walk on the trail through the woods, with half eaten mushrooms dotting the forest floor.  I'm guessing the deer last night snacked on the fresh new growth.  I passed by the Companion Tree and looked up high at its branches while two robins darted off the trail ahead of me.

As I sit here writing on this late August day, there is still a steady choir of crickets chirping.  Chickadees and blue jays are calling to one another in the tree tops as my seat gets damp from the wet log I'm sitting on.  Squirrels are chattering all around me and I love their familiar sounds because I know I can count on them to hang out with me in the woods in all seasons.

A red squirrel has a good hiding place in this deep woods atop an oak tree far above me.  


In the distance, far to the south, I hear sandhill cranes and know they're thinking about a day soon to come when they will head south for the winter.  I hope they wait a little longer so I can hear them a zillion more times this fall.  I hope summer itself stays a little longer!

This time of year I especially enjoy the spider webs, filled with dew, that adorn the morning grass.  The webs appear magically everywhere along the woodland trails and the driveway, often empty, but always laced with dew drops.  They bring back memories of my childhood, late summer days, and the start of the new school year.  They also remind me of a time not so long ago with my young son and our early morning walks down our long driveway to wait for the bus.  When we could hear it slowing down out on the highway, about to turn onto our dirt road, I can still hear him saying to me, "Mom, you can go now."