After a breakfast with friends at Cracker Barrel, CJ and I ran some errands for a while. Upon arriving home, she asked, “You going hiking?”

“I am.”

“Okay, love. Have fun.”

“I will.”

I already had a pair of hiking boots on, so all I had to get was something to drink, my iPhone for pictures, gloves, my neck gator, and a wool hat.

Securing my gear, I stepped off and headed into the woods.

I began on my favorite trail, one that leads to one of the creeks. I walked under the oaks for a mile or two. Acorns and sticks popped under the soles of my boots. I stopped regularly, looking for deer. I knew they’d spot me long before I spotted them.

At last one of the creeks came into view.

I sat down on some of the flat stones in the creek and just was. All was quiet. Occasionally the winds would pick up and the leaves would dance and shuffle on the forest floor.

I snapped a couple of pictures with my iPhone.

Deer prints were pressed in the sand. Green mountain laurel grew on the banks. The winds picked up a bit and I could smell scents carried by the creek. The tall thin pines rocked back and forth, back and forth, with the winds. I sat for a few more moments on the stones. Just being.

After some time passed, I thought it wise to head back towards home. It would take me at least an hour to get back via the trail I chose. Up, up, and up. The trial was clear, though, and I could see a long way into the woods and the hills. I stopped regularly to enjoy the views with which I am so familiar.

The mountain ridge was to my back now. I was headed north towards home.

When I exited the woods the road came into view. A fellow hiker, a woman, was dressed in a blue puffer jacket, tan gloves, and burgundy hat. She watched me and I watched her. As we passed each other going opposite directions, it became clear she was in her happy place, too.

“Doesn’t it feel great out here?”

“It does,” I said.

“I just love it,” she said.

“As do I.”

When I finally arrived home, CJ warmed me a bowl of potato soup. I sat down and ate, took Lady out to pee, watched the cardinals on my birdfeeder, and hugged our son. He was gaming online with some of his friends.

I went to my library and began preparing to upload a lesson for the saints for tomorrow. Since our area is likely to get hit with pretty heavy rain and eventually ice, I was thankful I had taken the time to feed my soul in the woods, on the hills, and down by the creek.

Home now, full of warm potato soup, and Lady is in her chair beside me as I study in order to teach and upload a video. My cup is full. Let the storms come. That’s just part of it all. But there are moments like these, too, and I remain grateful.