When I was a child in Maryland, our neighbors, who were Quakers, invited me to an outdoor Meeting, under a tree. I thought of that when searching for a phrase more original than "a religious experience" to describe my time outside this weekend. Admiring wildflowers. Wading in the brook. The roar of the waterfall.
An old tree stump takes on a new life as a home for ferns, moss and insects.
A woodchuck popped her head out of this tangle of fallen tree, saw me and disappeared. She popped back out a few times, while I waited quietly, but not quietly enough apparently, because she always spotted me. Selfishly, I hoped to see her venture out and about.
In the store I was like a school child with spring fever. Now that I've decided to close, it's hard to be there, though I talked to friends and met nice people, including several on their first visit to the Catskills. People tried to talk me out of closing, but it's time, I said.