The fern fronds glow with a clean, green light,
and I lift one and point out the spores, curled
like sleep on the back, the rows so straight,
so even, that I might be convinced of Providence
at this moment. My daughter is seven.
She looks at the spores, at the leaf, at the plant,
at this wise, wide forest we are in, and sighs
at my pointing out yet another Nature Fact.
But look, I say, each one is a baby ready
to grow. Each one can become its own fern.
But she is already moving down the path
toward the bridge and whatever’s beyond.
~Gillian Wegener “Nature Walk” from This Sweet Haphazard

Others taunt me with having knelt at well-curbs
Always wrong to the light, so never seeing
Deeper down in the well than where the water
Gives me back in a shining surface picture
Me myself in the summer heaven godlike
Looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs.
Once, when trying with chin against a well-curb,
I discerned, as I thought, beyond the picture,
Through the picture, a something white, uncertain,
Something more of the depths—and then I lost it.
Water came to rebuke the too clear water.
One drop fell from a fern, and lo, a ripple
Shook whatever it was lay there at bottom,
Blurred it, blotted it out. What was that whiteness?
Truth? A pebble of quartz? For once, then, something.
~Robert Frost “For Once, Then, Something”

I took many nature walks by myself as a kid living on 7 acres of woods and pasture. There wasn’t much that I didn’t scrutinize carefully throughout the seasons, keeping track of how things changed, died, reappeared and thrived.

I knew the woods of my childhood would not be my forever home as that home was sold after my parents’ divorce. I dwelled for nearly a decade in the city before settling in with my husband on this rural road over thirty years ago. We want to remain here for as long as we are able to manage it.

What I see on my work around our farm is what I share here. Some of you like the nature walks I offer. Others have moved on ahead of me, heading to the bridge to a destination beyond.

I understand that need to move on. I’ve done it as well.

Those of you who stick with me on my walk, day in and day out – you are very special to me. I hear from some of you (thank you!) every day, when you see your reflection in the waterwell of these photos and words.

Most of you are too shy or busy or don’t think it matters that I know you have seen and read and listened what I post here. In fact, I love to know you have visited. If you haven’t connected with me for awhile or never at all, I appreciate knowing if:
for once, then, something touched you here.

That indeed is the truth – our walk together, for now, is a blessing. The bridge to whatever is beyond will be waiting when we’re ready.