Today was my first time back in the woods I frequent the most since the cold and ice dissipated.
The sun has disappeared along with the frost, leaving the days overcast, cold and dank. It’s not ideal for photos, but I brought my camera along out of habit. As usual I ended up seeing images I wanted to capture, although the light was indeed problematic.
The woods were utterly still and stark this afternoon. It had the feeling of a hall after a party, with streamers hanging limp and the floor sticky with spilled booze.
I wandered through the woods, calling to the dog quietly. The trees are in the deepest part of their cycle of slumber. No soft snores or shifting of position. They’re locked into the sleep of survival, and when they start to stir in the next month or so perhaps the weather will be kinder, and the freeze behind us.
Soon, green shoots will push up out of the earth, and snowdrops and crocuses will shake earth from their heads.
This is the stillness of the held breath, waiting for the signal for action.