Frost lie on the bridge railing and the sun peeked out above the clouds. A family of ducks swam peacefully fifty yards to my right. Smoke funneled out of the chimneys from a few cabins nestled in the woods. I wore my forest green ski-jacket with a sweatshirt layered underneath it. It was roughly 30 degrees on a serene morning in southeastern Pennsylvania.
I observed my thoughts, quieted my mind, and gazed around at nature. Occasionally a few birds would flutter by and the heron did make another guest appearance, soaring above the river. Overall, there was minimum action: everyone was just waking up.
These days aren’t filled with excitement or drama, but are much needed days of solitude. It’s a period when I can hear myself and regenerate for the upcoming new year. I can reflect on which area of myself needs growth and which area needs to be abandoned. Nature calms the mind and heals the soul.
I flow down the trail and drift back to the beginning. My steps follow back to where they came from. Once you know the way, you never get lost. I’m almost back to where I belong.