I awoke slowly, then quickly, the speed of my heartbeat respective to that of my waking. My scratched-up back separated from an old thick tree trunk as wide as it was rough. After a short period of panic, I slowly calmed as I remembered I was only taking a nap in the middle of my run. I left a the banana peel at my feet and started into a jog withcontent in my stomach and a little leftover haziness in my vision and mind. The forest floor, soft and forgiving (besides the few roots) felt amazing on my less than cushioned shoes. The air soothed my bare back and I looked about the trees all around and the large pond to my right. The forest was thick enough to where it felt unadultured and solely affected and regulated by its natural inhabitants. The pond was probably wider than two football fields and it was never silent. There was no shortage of dragonflies on the shore nor ducks among the metropolis of lily pads and water plants that stuck out one or two feet above the water like they were trying to beat out the little lilipads for the suns attention. Frogs croaked and jumped into the water with a telltale splash every time the trail was close to the water. If my mind wasn’t freed from all want in my current state of running, observing, and existing as part of this beautiful slice of the natural world, I do believe I would have a slight desire to paddle a kayak through the water plants and see what it’s like to be on the pond.

My Grandma would be making pasta right about now and I was about five minutes out from my grandparents house where I was staying for the weekend. As I picked up the pace a little in hungry excitement, I recalled all the summers I had spent walking with my family on those very trails listening to my grandfather indentify every bird’s song or call, and my uncles tell stories about their collective youth. I recalled the events of yesterday when I introduced my grandfather to my college best friend and we three walked the trails and looked up at the newly fledged cooper’s hawks.