So I am welcoming March with open arms. I'm ready for this new month and (hopefully) a gateway into spring, Chris and I have been doing a lot of exploring outside of the city over the past couple of months. Focusing on all things free as he looks for a job, which pretty much translates to all things outside. And I'm totally OK with that. Chris starts his new gig on Tuesday, which means these impromptu road trips and weekend journeys will be fewer, or at least far more precious. Last weekend we headed up to one of my favorite PA state parks, Hickory Run, to use the gorgeous snowshoes my mom gave us for Christmas. It was what we both needed. An escape from the city for the day. Every few weeks, there comes a time when the city streets begin to close in around me. Suddenly, the beautiful brick row homes that line the streets feel more like barriers than my neighbor's lovely houses, like walls closing in. The icy, un-shoveled sidewalks a hindrance; the defensive attitudes of city-dwellers (city drivers) a splash of ice water on even the most positive mood. I found myself slipping into this funk last weekend, the drive to the grocery store and then home to my apartment after work had been a battle, and even though it was Friday night, the thought of going back out again felt like more than I could handle. When this feeling arises in my soul, the kind of feeling that's tough to describe but when attempted falls somewhere between trapped and cabin-feverish, I know it's time to get out. Growing up in the woods was an experience that I never expected to affect me so strongly. But now, on days when city living just gets to be too much, I long for the hushed sway of pine trees and infinite silence that only comes with deep, dark woods.
To stand beneath the forest canopy, basking in the joy of pure stillness, of nature just doing its thing.