Today I went over to Cindy's to practice piano around 2:30 ish.
After practicing for about an hour, I guess, we decided to take a break. I marveled that the weather was really nice today--a ploy that hinted for my desire to take a walk. Cindy immediately got the cue. She asked her mom if we could go on a walk, and within minutes, we hit the sidewalk. And then, after about ten minutes, we went off the path and into the woods.
Classic, true-life scenario of the road not taken (which is my favorite poem, by the way): to the left,there was a well-worn path. To the right, there was a path covered with leaves, debris, rocks. It looked far less-traveled upon than the path to the left, so we set off on our nature walk/adventure, trekking through leaves, dangerous crags and debris. Thank goodness we were wearing long sleeves and pants (even though the weather was sweltering).
At some point, we somehow reached a hill. We looked below it. There was a tunnel whose mouth fed into a creek/stream, filled with boulders of various sizes.
Cindy, being the pioneer that she is, didn't think twice as she walked to the side of the hill and crossed the stream on stepping stones.
I stared after her, tempted and a hesitant to do the same. The water was too murky to reveal how deep it actually was, but I didn't think it'd be too deep. But of course, I wavered. By the time I made my decision to cross (and by the way, I obviously took my camera with me), Cindy was already back around my side of the stream. I tiptoed stone by stone. Occasionally a stone would wobble as I landed on it, but I made it across alright. But I didn't go straight across.
I squatted in the middle of the stream on top of two rocks after I found foothold, and started photographing the tunnel, which seemed fascinating and ominous at the same time. Cindy even asked if we would crawl through it. She seemed like she was excited to do so. I'm in awe of her. I wanted to climb in, but I wasn't nearly as gung-ho about it as she was. She's really brave.
After crossing the stream, we went to the other side of the hill and found the bottom of it swamped/flooded. Brown water. Trees half-submerged. I guess it's kind of like a reservoir.
Anyway, we continued on that path... and then diverged from it again. Except this time there wasn't even a path. We walked precariously along the edge of streams with narrow footholds, loose rocks. Murky water, brown, dirt, rocks, everywhere. That's what I can associate with our forage into the wild woods. And trees.
If only I could've videotaped the whole trek. It was amazing. It's a bit of a cliche, I know, but it really did feel, at some points, as though we were one with nature. If you know me well enough, maybe I can take you to this wood. Heck, I'll take you even if you don't know me well enough/vice versa.
Resuming where I left off on today's walk:
By the time we got out of the woods, I think it was 3:49. And by the time we got home, I think it was 4:20? Maybe? Something like that. But we were in the woods for a really, really long time. It felt as if I were in another world when we were in those woods.
Well. That was the HUGEST post ever. I mean, it had the most photographs ever. And it's justified. I love my life and my friends.
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