I am
standing on a bridge in the forest, as the dogs race and ramble and wrestle and
play, at the start of a walk.
There is a beautiful pathway on a rise that curves round the bend past the bridge, edged with Fir trees and a crop of Water Horsetail, Equisetum fluviatile L.
During prehistoric times, they grew as large as trees. Can you imagine? I love learning what species of things have been here for so very very long. Imagine the visual , that line that shows periods of history. Imagine prehistoric times, with sturdy tree-size Horsetail, flourishing.
Now imagine the little color that always illuminates when humans began hanging out. These plants, their ancestors, just leave us in the dust.
The path cuts a swath through the Horsetail , as, like small dinosaurs , they quietly grow in their completely unique structural formation .
There is a beautiful pathway on a rise that curves round the bend past the bridge, edged with Fir trees and a crop of Water Horsetail, Equisetum fluviatile L.
During prehistoric times, they grew as large as trees. Can you imagine? I love learning what species of things have been here for so very very long. Imagine the visual , that line that shows periods of history. Imagine prehistoric times, with sturdy tree-size Horsetail, flourishing.
Now imagine the little color that always illuminates when humans began hanging out. These plants, their ancestors, just leave us in the dust.
The path cuts a swath through the Horsetail , as, like small dinosaurs , they quietly grow in their completely unique structural formation .
Extending upwards about a foot , to single straight cones, a small lot
of them cover only an area maybe 15' x 5', the ecosystem absolutely perfect,
for them. Rich in silica, as an herb; horsetails are used in teas to nourish
beautiful hair and nails and skin.
Above me the sky is dark and heavy with purple rain clouds, that will quench the thirst of these dry lands soon, ensuring survival for plants and trees, should winter have a severe spell.
We pass along the rise, and make our way up the steep wooded path, carpeted with slippery leaves of Beech and Maple and Oak. The dogs scramble; the humans cut their shoes into the soil each step ,to avoid a fall.
Suddenly, the Malamute/Siberian Husky pauses, watching and listening. I notice, so we pause, too. Dante mirrors the slightly older dog's behavior, ears shifting, standing stock still, the both of them with raised muzzles, sniffing the air .
The Husky's tail goes between his legs- then straight down, then between the legs again . Not a behavior he exhibits toward humans or horses or dogs .
But like the Horsetail, his genes are closer to his wolf predecessors than the other dogs, so I watch him, waiting.
They break to race and play, but down the hill, we see him pause again, certain that something is not quite right.
We consider. His sense of smell is remarkable. Is it the whiff, from far off, of a hunter's dead Partridge or Turkey? Is it the odor , carried a long distance on the wind, of a bear from a distance into the forest, or Bobcat?
We decide to call them, and they come stand by us with the relief you see in small kids , who would not have decided to come by your side , but are more at ease for it.
We award them with delectable treats, and leash them, in acknowledgment of the unusual ; and head back down the steep slippery hill. I remind Dante every other step to be - careful, careful. He again and again slows, so as not to pull and cause me to fall. As a Shepherd, it's one of the inherent strengths that just about balances out the Shepherd challenges.
We reach the Horsetail path with subdued dogs , and cross the simple wooden bridge just in time to meet up with a person accompanied by their three dogs, on the way up the main path.
Beneath my feet, I glance and see the waters of the stream, healthy and clean ; filled with jeweled apparitions of fallen leaves, slowly pulled down the current on swift waters, curling round one bend after another.
As we leave behind hill and stream and the beautiful thick forest. A range of other secretive living beings, and today, mysteries of the deep woods.
Above me the sky is dark and heavy with purple rain clouds, that will quench the thirst of these dry lands soon, ensuring survival for plants and trees, should winter have a severe spell.
We pass along the rise, and make our way up the steep wooded path, carpeted with slippery leaves of Beech and Maple and Oak. The dogs scramble; the humans cut their shoes into the soil each step ,to avoid a fall.
Suddenly, the Malamute/Siberian Husky pauses, watching and listening. I notice, so we pause, too. Dante mirrors the slightly older dog's behavior, ears shifting, standing stock still, the both of them with raised muzzles, sniffing the air .
The Husky's tail goes between his legs- then straight down, then between the legs again . Not a behavior he exhibits toward humans or horses or dogs .
But like the Horsetail, his genes are closer to his wolf predecessors than the other dogs, so I watch him, waiting.
They break to race and play, but down the hill, we see him pause again, certain that something is not quite right.
We consider. His sense of smell is remarkable. Is it the whiff, from far off, of a hunter's dead Partridge or Turkey? Is it the odor , carried a long distance on the wind, of a bear from a distance into the forest, or Bobcat?
We decide to call them, and they come stand by us with the relief you see in small kids , who would not have decided to come by your side , but are more at ease for it.
We award them with delectable treats, and leash them, in acknowledgment of the unusual ; and head back down the steep slippery hill. I remind Dante every other step to be - careful, careful. He again and again slows, so as not to pull and cause me to fall. As a Shepherd, it's one of the inherent strengths that just about balances out the Shepherd challenges.
We reach the Horsetail path with subdued dogs , and cross the simple wooden bridge just in time to meet up with a person accompanied by their three dogs, on the way up the main path.
Beneath my feet, I glance and see the waters of the stream, healthy and clean ; filled with jeweled apparitions of fallen leaves, slowly pulled down the current on swift waters, curling round one bend after another.
As we leave behind hill and stream and the beautiful thick forest. A range of other secretive living beings, and today, mysteries of the deep woods.
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