A Walk in the Woods

There is a patch of woods behind our house...

Last week I took a walk with my dog, my six-year-old son, my mother-in-law, and my college-age niece. The sun shone brightly and the air was crisp and clear. We bundled up in warm coats and meandered into the small wilderness beyond our backyard.

The path soon ended and we wound our way past fallen branches, deeper into the beckoning woods. We zigzagged past thorn brambles that snagged at our sleeves. We stepped around circles of mud left from a recent rainfall.

"Everyone, look up," I said. "See how tall the trees are?" The tree branches fanned into wooden hands pointing to a sky as blue as the color of my son's eyes.

"Wait...do you hear that?" My niece said. A hollow hammering sound echoed through the air. We scanned the woods, straining to see the source of the hammering. "Look!" My niece pointed to a distant tree. "A woodpecker!"

We continued on our short hike and climbed over a fallen tree. Soon we came to a secret place in the woods - a green thatch of bamboo. Although bamboo does not commonly grow in Southeastern Pennsylvania, years ago a neighbor must have planted it and now a dense grove of trees populates this area of the woods.

My niece picked up a fallen bamboo branch and gave it to my son to use for a walking stick. My six-year-old promptly turned it into a bow-staff, swinging the stick in a circular motion as he has seen his older brother do for karate.

"Be careful," Grandma warned.

We stood at the edge of the bamboo. Narrow leaves that topped the pole-like stalks swayed in the cold wind. I stepped into the shadow of the fairy-tale forest. The leaves wove together tightly forming a thick green canopy.

"I wonder what kind of magical creatures live in this grove of trees. Elves, maybe?"

"Oh Mom," my very grown-up six-year-old said. "There's no such thing as elves."

I smiled while pondering the ever-practical mind of my young son. "Oh yeah, you're right. Well, let's keep going."

Minutes later, we made it to a clearing where a creek trickled across a path of stones. My son quickly hopped across the water and scrambled up the embankment. The dog followed close behind.

Finally, we had arrived at the other side of the woods. There we discovered an old paved path leading into a quiet neighborhood. We walked along the road past a few houses and into a field. Along the edge of the grassy marsh was a small opening leading back into the woods.

"There's our house." I pointed to the structure in the distance peeking through the line of trees. The tree branches were still barren from the winter but the arrival of spring’s promise was right around the corner. In fact, it was right beneath my feet.

"Look at this." I bent down to inspect a circle of green with tiny white bell-shaped flowers. I plucked one of the gems from the ground and tried to show my son. But something else green had caught his eye.

In a flash, he was off and running - running to an old rusted green swing set from years gone by at the edge of the woods. There was no longer a swing hanging from the tattered frame, but it was a perfect climbing structure for young boy.

I turned to my son as I exited the woods. "Come on hon. It's time to go home."

I breathed in the crisp air and plunged my hands deep into my coat pockets. Silently, I thanked God for this day and for another special family memory.

Thank you Jesus for this walk in the woods.