Spider Season

 I took myself "forest bathing" this morning in one of my favorite local parks. It started out supremely foggy and slowly burned off as I walked. I couldn't have asked for better light. These were all taken with a small point and shoot. I kicked myself for not bringing my good camera, but the point of the walk had been walking, not taking photos.

I believe there are three kinds of walks: exercise/GO-ing walks, partner walks, and soul walks. You can combine two of those three elements in a walk, but it is hard to combine all three. You end up missing something. Today was a soul walk for me. I certainly was exercising, but I was not on a time frame, and I chose my path as I walked. I stopped to take photos of things that stood out to me today.

It is spider season here. We have so many different kinds of spiders appearing in and out of our house, it feels a little like a wing of a zoo. Every time we walk outside, some new web is at head height, waiting to catch an unsuspecting human by the mouth.

In the forest, they are everywhere. Branches, ferns, grass, are all covered with webs, so many, it looks like someone went crazy decorating for Halloween.The fog had condensed on each line and the webs practically glowed from the right angle. I would frame six webs, but only one would show in the light...

The light through the fog really showed detail and texture today (without making too many shadows).

 You could practically hear the forest working. Leaves drifted down from trees, as did drops of condensed fog. The forest was literally watering itself today (um... rainforest).

 When I got to the overlook where you can usually see the river, I was treated to this sight:

 

I thought about how sometimes being in the fog only allows you to see what's in front of you, not the big picture. It can be disconcerting because it is difficult to know what's happening, but it can also be a chance to narrow your focus and really look at what is right in front of you.

I stopped in the part of the park where J and I were married one wet, dark afternoon in February (sixteen years ago). The place feels sacred to me - I can feel a connection with Spirit, Universe, God here.

 I walked up the hill and leaned against one of the shelters and just stood, soaking it all in: the light, the cool air, the trees, the grass, the bird noises.

 I turned to my left and saw THIS:

 It was just perched there, soaking it all in. We looked at each other on and off for a while and finally I left.  On the way home, the fog was gone and autumn was just beginning to do her beautiful work.