Spring Forest

This is the fourth day in a row I have walked to work. In those four days, it has been sunny and warm, a joy for walking. (OK, this morning is a little cold and overcast, but that breaks the flow of the story.) Each morning, I walk a certain route, cutting through the north east corner of the campus, a forested grassy area that doesn't seem to serve a purpose for the students (not quite large or natural enough for hikes or research, too large to comfortably study or have lunch, no place to sit, etc.). Each evening, I walk a slightly different route past the big, declining, old houses, so I can imagine what it would be like to fix one up.

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Each morning, I have noticed slightly more green on my walk to campus. The first day, the ground was green with moss; the second day, clumps of grass had appeared; by today, those clumps have passed my ankles and are covering the ground. I may not be able to cut through soon, at the rate it is growing.

Last night, after class, I changed my walk slightly, to cut through a tiny section of this forested area. I looked to my left (to the west), and I saw a photograph. No, I saw a landscape, a sunset. But actually, I saw a photograph. The way the light spilled over a building, around a tree and into my eyes, the way the tree cast its shadow like a finger pointing at my feet, the clumps of grass looking like a cheering crowd. When I returned with camera in hand, of course the photo was gone. I don't think I will find it again-- the grass has grown two more inches, this weekend calls for rain, the earth moves around the sun.

This morning, I saw my friend walking through to forest, on her way to her office in a different direction from mine. I emailed her about it later. This is what I wrote.

Didn't that seem like a scene from an early 20th century poem about "2 young faculty enjoying their morning reverie on a walk through the woods, come upon each other and exchange a wave." :)