I arrived at the trailhead just at daybreak. No waiting required. I laced up my boots, grabbed my cane and stepped out onto the trail dimly visible in the gloom of dawn. There’s a dense mist clinging to the low places, and the air feels a bit more brisk than recent summer mornings. Fall is coming.
The trail crunched under my feet as I stepped along carefully. With each step the sky lightened, dawn becoming day, and more of the trail being revealed to my eyes. Sounds in the brush became little birds, an occasional squirrel, and a possum. Further down the trail, I passed by a family of racoons, and wondered if it is the same family of racoons I’ve seen here before? Out in the mists of the meadow, I see a small herd of deer. I have the sensation of solitude, though I know there are other people on the trail this morning; I saw two cars parked nearby when I arrived.
I walk with my thoughts. I’m back to work Tuesday, though not inclined to fuss about it much or celebrate too eagerly. No particular doubts or concerns that it could fall through, it’s not that at all, it’s more that these feel like uncertain times, and I’m very fortunate to secure a new position so quickly, and not inclined to have that information create stress for folks who may not be similarly fortunate. So, I take a chill and somewhat discreet approach to the whole thing, to avoid being callous or haplessly cruel. I am excited though. It’s a new beginning, and a new adventure.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. It is a Saturday, at the start of a long weekend. I don’t have any plans, besides a bit of housework and getting myself ready for a new job. I decide to go to the co-work space I’d been frequenting in my previous job, for day 1. Convenient, familiar… and “colleagues” there will appreciate knowing I am back to work and okay. I’ll work out something closer for the long-term if I can. Gas is expensive and it makes very little sense to drive so far to work remotely! 😂
Arriving at my halfway point, I see racoons playing where I generally take a seat, on a fallen log. I walk on a little way to a large rock, out in the open, past the oaks. The meadow stretches out before me, and I can see headlights sweep around the curve of the highway beyond. In a few more weeks, most of the meadow will become marsh, and the seasonal trail will close. I take a deep breath of the fresh morning air. It smells of summer flowers and mown grass.
I’m feeling mostly pretty ready for the changes ahead. I know change can be hard on me, though, and I give thought to what sorts of things might ease the feelings of upheaval and disruption. Like doing the first shift from a familiar co-work space, there are little things I can do to make the experience feel more comfortable. It’s mostly a matter of good self-care.
I watch the dawn become day. No sunrise, really, the sun is obscured by dense gray clouds on the eastern horizon and the clear starry night sky has become a milky overcast backdrop for silhouetted birds and trees, with only the faintest suggestion of blue. Will it rain, I wonder? The forecast says it’s unlikely, but the air smells like rain, here, now. The morning mist spreads, creeping towards me until I am surrounded by it. I’ll sit awhile longer with my thoughts… and enjoy this new beginning.
Evening Light 