Afternoon Light

But where would I rather be?

If everyday this were mine to see.

Afternoon sun on its way to the horizon. (C) 1inawesomewonder 2016.

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Autumn Rays

Some awake, and dread pins them to the warmth, a sigh instead of words to say.

Then, another looks at morning, embracing, God has granted me another day!

Early morning back yard. One of my favorite views.

Den Rock Walk

Hidden in the midst of population, business, and all of the bustle, I found this old Native American land called Den Rock Park. I guess when you think about it, all our land is old Native American land pretty much. Anyway, I am so glad this place has been preserved. I thoroughly enjoyed my walk while my Mom was having, and recovering, from cataract surgery earlier today. She did very well.

I saw signs of deer, coyote, fox, plenty of small animals, and numerous birds. This article is an excellent place to learn more on Den Rock Park as well.

One of the deer tracks that I saw today in Den Rock Park. (c) 2016 1inawesomewonder.

Another deer track today. (c) 2016 1inawesomewonder.

There is nothing quite like mother nature, and of course, wildlife.

A mixture of sunshine and shade along the trails. (c) 2016 1inawesomewonder.

This little park is a beautiful place. There is so much history here. And the sights don’t disappoint either. The sun shining down through the canopy, and the leaves on the trail to catch the rays.

There were plenty of oak trees that looked like this. Squirrels, chipmunks, nut hatches, and woodpeckers, all are fond of these places. (c) 2016 1inawesomewonder.

Then there is the Shawsheen River at one edge of the park. There trails that come right down to the water’s edge. Park benches dot the shoreline and invite visitors to sit and daydream about then and now.

Another look at the Shawsheen River. (c) 2016 1inawesomewonder.

The Shawsheen River reflects the blue sky. (c) 2016 1inawesomewonder.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nice views out in the bird sanctuary. (c) 2016 1inawesomewonder.

There are places to sit and watch the bird life. (c) 2016 1inawesomewonder.

Around every turn or behind every hill there was more nature revealed and it was beautiful.

And if you are into fitness, see below, as I recorded my walk in, and around, the park earlier today.

This little jaunt burned more than 400 calories, and it took me more than 5000 steps. (c) 2016 1inawesomewonder.

If you are in the area, stop by and check out this piece of American history, and maybe get in some nice exercise as well.

Katahdin Skies

 

Looking across Salmon Stream to Mt. Katahdin. (C) 2016 1inawesomewonder. (click on the image to enlarge)

At Peace in the Forest

I walked in the woods. It was cold. The chill on my face was cold enough for me to notice. I thought that maybe it was cold enough to freeze condensation into my moustache. The snow was hard. It was frozen, molded by the beings that had trodden there before me. My steps were my own, but nearly every one of them landed where another had trod this space recently. My own passage through this place was loud and I wondered who, or what else, knew I was there. I assumed that all animals were keenly aware of my presence. When I stopped to tickle the depths of my throat with the crisp, clean, cold air, I heard nothing else. Save, the fluttering beech nut leaves that clung in the slight winter’s breeze to the twig that gave them life. Now and again I heard the pop of some piece of tree bark that finally succumbed to the temperatures. But for man, I heard nothing. I listened to my heartbeat as my eyes and ears sought out other sounds deep in the forest. The trickle of distant water half covered in ice seemed so loud even when it was still far enough away that I could not see it. The steps I took were in earnest as I couldn’t wait to get to a place where the path ran away to disappear somewhere around the next bend. Finally, after checking a spot along a trail that I had not explored before, I noticed that the foot prints in the snow ended, reversing themselves along the trail as they had entered.

Ahhh, I looked around and made no haste in determining my new direction. As a matter of fact, I even removed my heavy outer layer of clothing as I had created too much heat on my walk into the woods. I stripped down to my bare back in order to cool down and make sure all layers of my clothing were dry. I was worried that if my shirts were wet, and my pace slowed in the shadows of hills and forest, that I might quickly get too cold. It was only 14°F with a wind chill in the single digits back in the forest. I re-layered, and I wore the heaviest layer like a belt around my waist, because I knew if I was moving, I would be warm enough. I did not want to cut my time short, for there aren’t enough hours available to fully enjoy this landscape already.

Then I decided it would be the tiny deer tracks that I saw, tracks that made the faintest of impressions on the snow dust, like a thin layer of powdered sugar covering the crusted snow, was where I would follow. I walked in the woods. I walked on crusted snow. There were no other foot steps. There was no trail. I followed some animal tracks, but mostly just the lay of the land. The crusted snow was slick in spots but I thought of how much more difficult this walk would be in the summer months of growth. I knelt by a small stream to listen while my eyes searched for each instrument that played such a rhythmic trickle. I looked through the crystal clear sheet of ice and watched the water flow over the bed of the stream. I followed the land and its ease of passage feeling for the contours I would seek if looking at a map of the terrain. I came upon a large wetland that was fed by several small streams, a couple of which I had encountered during my walk. I skirted around the wetland checking the tracks in the snow and noticing the age of the massive fir trees around me. I noticed almost no hard wood trees and figured that the land had been cleared generations before me. Then as the ground rose, away from the water, I noticed a super highway of animal tracks. There were deer, muskrat, turkey, bobcat, coyote, otter, and another bird tracks that I wasn’t sure of. There was probably even more tracks that I missed. But during my time there, only the water, the wind, and I were moving. I stood in silence and let the sun warm my face, as I daydreamed of being there in that spot on some early, early morning to see all the activity connected to the tracks I saw. 

I listened to the sounds, the silence found in the absence of sound. I talked with my Lord aloud. I figured the nature around me was already familiar with The Lord Almighty, and that it would be just fine to speak aloud. I prayed aloud. I prayed in reverence. I prayed a thankful prayer. I prayed for the vision and attentiveness to notice the awesomeness of the Lord’s works in so many people, places, and things that I encounter every day. I prayed for my Dad, for my whole family, and for many more. I prayed for our leaders to boldly go where true leaders must go. I prayed for God’s direction for them, for me, for my family, for us all. I prayed about a lot of things. I talked openly with God. Finally I prayed for more opportunities to be in such wild and natural places as often as His will would allow. For me, there’s a calming, encompassing, peace and a connection to God that is unmistakable when truly engaged in the forest. For all of life that whisks by us in a blur that seems to be an endless loop at times, I was so grateful for these couple of hours in nature. I knew I had other commitments that I needed to attend to, so I made my way out of the forest, reluctantly returning to reality. As I left the woods and was returning to the places I needed to be, I saw a large, beautiful, wandering coyote going about his or her day. I smiled and I thought, perfect, I am leaving, let the animals return to their business. 

Passing Through

Sometimes I travel just to pass through an area, but many times I travel to a spot just to let it pass through me.

Wooded area along the Magalloway River (photo by 1inawesomewonder) ©

Looking north towards the homestead and Uncle Lloyd’s farm (photo by 1inawesomewonder) ©

Abrams Pond (photo by 1inawesomewonder) ©

Remote brook in northern NH (photo by 1inawesomewonder) ©

St. John River Valley (photo by 1inawesomewonder) ©

The top of Dixville Notch (photo by 1inawesomewonder) ©

The area around Mt. Katahdin (photo by 1inawesomewonder) ©

The first miles of the Connecticut River (photo by 1inawesomewonder) ©

The spaces where I learned to be free (photo by 1inawesomewonder) ©

Anywhere I can see the canvas that is the sky (photo by 1inawesomewonder) ©

Many a dream have I pondered lost in the glow of the tree (photo by 1inawesomewonder) ©

TSO shows (photo by 1inawesomewonder) ©

One such place where I can go and let the sounds of yesteryear fill the silence that envelopes me (photo by 1inawesomewonder) ©

My views of the Northern Lights (photo by 1inawesomewonder) ©

Open places, animals, snow and the sky, weather nearby (photo by 1inawesomewonder) ©

Along the Androscoggin (photo by 1inawesomewonder) ©

In the Garden

Often times, as I stroll through the quiet, God created, wild places, I find myself praying, if not, talking with my Lord. In those moments, the balance of life, my peace of mind, and feeling of blessed assurance is mine; mine alone. It reminds me of the truths found in words to a song I remember singing in church…

“And He walks with me, and He talks with me,

And He tells me I am His own;

And the joy we share as we tarry there,

None other has ever known…”

The joy is mine, and it’s always available; always. Thank you Lord. Oh, to be there now.

In the Garden