After the rain, I took a walk in the woods for mental health. The air seemed cleaner, more pure. I felt like I could absorb more of it. It brought clarity to all my senses.
After the rain, the birds chirped more. The sound of the rain drowned them out moments ago. But now, it was their turn to defeat silence. They called to each other for one reason or another. Maybe in praise of a worm that surfaced.
Raindrops hung to the bare tree limbs like imitation bulbs. We won’t see real ones for a few more months. A slight breeze high above shook some raindrops down to the ground. They held as long as they could, but it was time to let go.
After the rain, the streams rose up the sides of the bank and rushed miles down from here to rivers and tributaries beyond my view. Accumulated debris and trash washed away. The friction pulled the edge of the bank, eroding at the shape of the stream. Years from now, after many more heavy rainstorms, erosion will have completely transformed this stream. Bridges will need to be repaired. We will adapt the trails to fit the changing environment.
After the rain, everything shined: the glazed leaves on the forest floor, a reflection of the canopy on a shallow puddle, a glossy hue on the bridges. The contrast of black bare limbs and milky gray sky dilated my eyes. Nature pops like a room when the curtains are thrown open.
After the rain, I was grateful for a walk. I spent the morning inside in front of my computer screen. And behind the screen were two windows facing the front yard. I watched the rain fall and took everything beyond my immediate touch for granted. Yet, I knew as soon as it stopped, I was going for a walk in the woods.