I can’t tell you what it means to me, to us, these trips of ours to the woods.
We get outdoors a lot at home. We know lots of good trails and we often ramble along our favorite creeks. But there is nothing, nothing at all, quite like the feeling that you could walk and walk and walk into these woods, into REAL woods, and never see a soul.
Nothing compares to that shivery feeling that you could get lost here. Good and lost.
There is no music like the first frog calls of the season and the ripples lapping at the bank of a lake that you have all to yourself… well, you and the ducks and the geese of course.
There is nothing that fills the soul like seeing the sun set over the golden grass and knowing that only you and your dearest companions will see just this sight in just this moment.
“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.” – Henry David Thoreau