Winter Tapestries

This story is about a beautiful boreal (style) forest in Nepean (Ontario). It was a cold, wet day in March and I was walking with our dog, who always tags along.

This forest has many interesting features and many mysteries. If you’re quiet and listening, she will share her magic and tell her stories.

On this particular afternoon, I was in a low-lying area on the eastern edge of the forest. It was raining lightly after a bit of mild weather that had thawed some of the snow cover, bringing fresh water into the basins and creaks, filling puddles along the trail.

It was grey and the forest was unusually dark with a sense of melancholy amongst the giant pines. I had hoped to find more inspiration here but stood with the mood of the place I walked.

Having a dog on the trail always lets me laugh. Many things I would not otherwise notice came to life through his playful antics.

As Sidney reached for a stick to play with my eye lifted. There was golden light coming from an area 30 yards off the trail. As I watched and listened, letting the dog play something pulled me toward this sparkle.

I found a small group of puddles created from the meltwater. They were partially frozen and with ice pellets falling had become pebbled to create a matt finish. I stared, mesmerized. The light that beaconed me was created by a combination of ice, last year’s fallen leaves, and a small opening in the forest canopy above.

I spent several moments scanning the frozen puddles uncovering my camera and shooting several images. I sensed the story went much deeper and I wanted to know more.

As I stood waiting, I felt like an archeologist staring into the depths of time through the structure of the ice that had formed. What came next was the essence of my quiet standing. The forest let me touch her, taking in and knowing her differently. See her empty hand alongside the full hand. She smiled as I saw the entire length of her time, all the sparkles she is and has seen. I felt deep into the soil and roots, a deep breath within the earth below.

When time closed to our chat, I stood in thanks. Thanks for the beauty I was shown.

Reaching for my camera I took this picture (image featured above).

Many days have passed since that cold March day and I still see deeply into the forest through this image. She had spoken, allowing a presence, a voice to exist for those of us who understand.

All one has to do is listen. She will reach out to hold your hand as she always does mine.

Listening to the stories and wisdom she offers.

Is Nature Changing

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