Journey

Last week I traveled hundreds of miles. Virtually all this travel was done to quickly get from “point A to point B,” all while increasingly attempting to obey the posted speed limits. I remember little, if anything, from those many miles other than some of the destinations. So far this week I’ve traveled just two miles—all on foot but what a delightful treat.
My trek started with the splendor of an unfolding sunrise. It is awesome to see the dew retreat as the rays of sun advance. The last moisture vividly highlights a delicate ground spider’s web. The subdued lavender blossoms of the voluptuous stretches of crown vetch are already attracting the first honey bees. Some raucous sentinels representing the local crow population perch in a lofty spruce and scold me for my morning intrusion. I turn with the sun’s rays now penetrating my back as I head downhill for the easy part of my stroll.
I pause to enjoy the fruits of my neighbor’s hours of toil as I survey an amazing array of beautiful landscaping. Visual treats such as day lilies, roses, trumpet lilies, and many varieties I can’t identify. I see no evidence of whatever laid that big mottled egg under one neighbor’s shrub. Further along, the massive Shellbark Hickory tree is so leaf enshrouded that it is difficult to verify that all the green nuts haven’t dropped as a result of a recent storm. The potato plants on the other side of the road are already well into flower. Unfortunately there has been so much rain this year that there has been no way to get into the field to do the necessary mounding of dirt around the plants. A yearling white-tailed deer glances up, long enough to assess the improbability of my bulk making a hundred yard dash, and goes back to peaceful grazing. Somehow at this early hour, my neighbor already has a full wagon of fragrant hay destined for the loft of his cavernous barn. Through the dimly lit opening of the barn door, a resting Holstein (cow) with huge placid eyes curiously checks me out.
The next yard displays lovely hydrangea plants pristinely adorned in clusters of pure white blossoms. There is no evidence of life in a unique fifteen foot high towering bird house that is a magnet for darting insect eating Purple Martin swallows. Across the street, a gentleman slips out for his morning paper and gives a silent “polite Pennsylvania Dutch nod” of greeting. I return his nod as he wordlessly scurries back into his home.
As I cross a small bridge, an energetic babbling brook summons me. I am delighted to spend a few minutes watching several water spiders daintily dance across the water’s surface. Some white Queen Ann’s Lace blossoms remind me of long ago soaking the stems in food coloring to produce bouquets with a rainbow of colors. An abrupt grade turns this trek into at least something aerobic. I pause to inspect the symmetrical little holes drilled by an energetic Woodpecker intent on finding tasty larvae buried in the trunk of a tree. The local Fish and Game Club pond sports dark green algae blooms across most of its surface. This morning I resist looking for the resident water snake, bullfrog, and accompanying sunfish population. As I continue on, the wheat field on the crest of the small hill seems to sway and dance as a slight breeze breaks the stillness. I check out a neighboring “shade-tree mechanic’s” latest used car offering—a neat older VW Cabriolet convertible.
(to be continued with part 2- my proofreader said there was too much for one sitting )