A Walk in the Woods

I headed back to the woods this afternoon looking for Ron. Our house (and when does one stop saying "our" and "we"?) sits at the front of 12 acres of land. Some of it is cleared; most is still forest. This time of year in Upstate New York, near the Catskill Mountains, it is so beautiful back in the woods. There are bright yellow, gold and red leaves still on the trees, but enough have fallen that the sunlight can again pour down to the ground as it does in spring before the leaves form their canopy. Everything is sort of glistening with the brightness of the sunlight on the leaves. The forest is open because the ground plants have all but died off, and it's easier to walk through the trees than at high summer.

Ron is back in the woods, some place. I kicked through a good 4 inches of crunchy leaves and I felt him there. He was a great outdoorsman. He literally could live off the land. He could start a fire with stones and wet leaves if necessary. He knew what plants were edible and what were not. He was a very good hunter (not my piece of cake but oh well..) and if he had to, he could have fed us from that. He could build shelters from almost nothing, or anything, and pretty much was prepared for whatever might come his way.

I was in need of him today so headed out beyond the back garage into the woods and felt calm and peaceful. With just a little bit of imagination, he could have stepped out from behind a tree and given me a hug. It didn't happen, of course, but for a few minutes, I was alone in the woods, not another sound but that of a squirrel, and Ron was there too.

I am doing fairly well. There were a few days last week into the weekend that were tough, but I woke up Sunday feeling better -- less grief stricken -- and so far it's stuck. I know the heaviness will return, but I hope that it decreases each time and stays away longer.