Some mornings the hallelujahs spring forth from my being–and fortunately not from my vocal cords.
Today was one of those days as I ventured down the snowmobile trail, aka Parnes Landing Road, at the Greater Lovell Land Trust’s Kezar River Reserve. Just past the kiosk, I veered to the left to follow the GLLT’s trail into the woods.
Within steps I was greeted by Auricularia auriula, a jelly ear fungus. The sun’s beams revealed veins reminiscent of stained glass windows and polished woodwork in an older church.
Flipping the fallen oak branch to look at the underside revealed an equally, if not more beautiful design with its frosted outline.
On a steep hill beside Kezar River, actually the sloped side of a ravine I’d never hiked upon before, a southerly orientation presented lives past and present.
Below, at the point where the trail, road and river meet, few have paused recently, including no sign of otter.
But many have zoomed by with a need to reach the next destination as fast as possible.
I followed their tracks a little way out and peeked into the second ravine from a vantage point seldom celebrated.
And then I headed back up the road to the next trail intersection. At my feet, form bespoke name, such is the manner of the big tooth aspen.
Down into the second ravine I tromped as I made my way to view the outlet from the other side.
Because of the snow’s depth, I traveled to places less frequented and beside the stream I noted previous action. Lots of it.
And I spied evidence of the creator–whose prints were hard to distinguish, but other signs easily discernible.
In my attempt to take a closer look, I practiced my inner otter and managed to find the water and leave my own set of muddy, though not quite webbed, prints. I laughed aloud as I pulled myself up and gave thanks for remembering to bring my hiking pole. Fortunately, the breakthrough was the only sign I left behind.
Heading up the ravine, I smiled at the sight of the universe having fun–nature rolled her own snowballs–perhaps in preparation to build a snow woman.
Through the cathedral of pines I continued–always looking up . . .
and down, where intricate patterns formed naturally in the ice offered a feathery look at the world below.
Sometimes, I stopped to spend a few moments with family members . . .
taking time to marvel in their similarities and differences as they stood side by side.
And it seems there are many hosts throughout our woodlands that offer a spot for others to evolve.
Despite or perhaps because of that, knowing they’d offered a helping hand, the oaks sported their crowns proudly.
Quite unexpectedly, I stumbled upon a picture of youth that warms my heart endlessly.
My journey wasn’t long, such is the trail. It’s decorated with small bright signs painted by local youngsters. Though I wouldn’t want to see these on every trail, they make me smile as I enjoy their colorful renditions of the natural world.
Not a picture of a morning glory, certainly, but a morning full of glory as I wandered and wondered and sang hallelujah along the trail at Kezar River Reserve.
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