First snowfall and memories of the forest in summer

I love walking in the woods. The silence of the forest, the majesty of the old pines, the very air has a calming presence. Away from this computer, away from the phone, away from the humming of the fridge, the noises of our modern world. A walk in the woods puts daily life in quiet perspective.

There are so many things to look at. There are the things that don’t change from year to year, from decade to decade or even from century to century: rocks at the shore of a small lake, the water lapping on that shore. Moss growing on the forest floor in seven shades of green. 

The contrast of those greens with the copper-coloured white pine needles, all of which yield softly to my footsteps. 

I sorely missed walks in the forest for all of September and October. Yet through that healing time, ever close to mind was the last walk I enjoyed in August. From 11 a.m. until 2:15 on the afternoon of Aug. 26, I bathed in the glory of the summer forest. 

Walking carefree under the hemlocks, amongst the pines and along the hillside of majestic oaks until the moment the leaves let go beneath me, and I heard my ankle bones break as I fell softly to the ground. I had a couple of hours to contemplate the fragility of life while waiting for my rescuers under the soothing canopy of the quiet forest.

Through the seven weeks of wearing casts and the following weeks of limited walking, ever close to mind was the memory of the forest that summer day. Forest memories sustained me. 

I am fortunate to live on the shore of a lake. While waiting for the bones to heal, I gazed out to the forest on the far shore. Recollections from last winter took me deep into that forest, up the hills and to the base of each giant white pine.

Now, the bones have healed perfectly (so says the surgeon) and the ligaments, tendons, nerves and muscles are almost back to normal. I can walk! And every day I walk into the forest along familiar trails.

Everything there remains the same. The soft mosses growing on the forest floor in seven shades of green. The contrast of those greens with the copper-coloured white pine needles. The little lake with waves lapping the rocky shore. And the freshest air on Earth, straight from the trees.

By the time you read this, likely there will be snow on the ground. The lakes starting to freeze. All leading to new ways to love being outside. Skating, snowshoeing, skiing — let winter begin.

Viki Mather has been commenting for Northern Life on the natural world and life in Greater Sudbury since the spring of 1984.