The woods feel enchanted and other-worldly. The pitter patter of raindrops dripping down to lower leaves leftover from the early morning rain adds to the birdsong. The calm and quiet of the woods helps restore me as I wake each morning achy and sickly.
The sun slices through the upper leaves, making some spots glow, while the shade covers the rest. The sun won't last long, as the afternoon is forecasted to be rainy.
Just a short time later, the grey clouds hover overhead, very close. The air is cool, damp, and darkening by the minute as the rain builds in the sky. The light rain drizzles and doesn't make a loud sound, but it can be heard pattering the leaves as the droplets spill down the wide-brimmed leaves. The rain echoes as it falls, bouncing across the woods in sound. I sit outside on the porch, enjoying the quiet ambiance of rain falling in the woods, with a new (old) book.
All around my the tall, thin trees have overarching branches that reach out and hold onto each other on the steep slopes. They are graceful and tall; seeing ages of history and seasons of change.
There is wisdom in these God-created woods.
There is story in these woods. History to be told. Just sitting outside among the stillness during a rainstorm you gather from the sounds what the woods have been like forever. You cannot see any houses from this spot. We could be out here all alone, and the woods would be the same. We are the changing creatures, always moving and seeking. Sometimes we need to be still, like the woods, relishing in the earth's refreshment of a summer rain, and feeling a little enchanted at the same time.