Overcast skies and dog-walking families are my companions on this Easter afternoon.
The 3rd-generation forest does not inspire but the lazy stream flowing through it provides a mysterious participant.
Each bend of the winding stream invites a deeper look. Did this stream once flow with more vigor? How deep are its dark waters? Did it once offer its shores for fishing and its current for travel?
Venturing away from the stream and up the steep valley walls, the forest quickly turns to spruce and pine. Trees fallen everywhere.
After taking a few side-trails hoping to reconnect with the valley’s stream but being met with only loud roads and dead-end trails, I retrace my steps back down the main trail, through the Easter-weekend visitors walking their dogs and return home.
Rain starts.