Digesting The Moment

 March is the longest of months. Seems that way because it can never decide what it wants to do. At times it throws teaser days around with abandon ushering in warm spring-like temperatures only to turn blustery and cold again with a vengeance. Gentle winds transform into a roaring tempest, then filter back into a near calm spirit. A brilliant sun can fill the landscape and encourage it with the clearest of blue skies and then clouds blow in so thick as to turn daytime into a discouraging dusk at mid-day. Blooming trees, lured into an early display of flowers, are often zapped back into a muted wrinkled state. March is indeed the longest of months, and by months end, my spirit is often in need of some lifting.

March is for me the most difficult month to stay motivated. Those teaser days lure your aspirations with anticipation, then dash them, as finicky weather tosses them back into dormancy. Even so, there are moments I force myself to pick up my camera gear and get out. The scenery is often bland this time of year, but the trick is to find a way to digest the moment. 

The other day I took an easy stroll through the woods outback and stopped at a nearby pond. There was a bit of a breeze and a chill in the air, but the woods surrounding the pond served to muffle the effects of the wind. I found a somewhat dry spot and plopped down to lean against a tree trunk. Over the next thirty minutes or so, I really did not do much, just sat quietly and watched the ripples push a few dried leaves across the pond and listened to the breeze as it reached across the tops of the still dormant trees. Only a few early season, green clusters of leafy foliage broke the mundane gray and brown prevailing color. A few birds joined me; a cardinal, a titmouse, a chickadee or two or three, and some crows added their annoying squawking to the sounds of the afternoon.

I really did not take very many photos, just a snapshot or two. Mostly, I just enjoyed the quiet...digesting the moment. After sitting for a while, I continued my stroll crossing the open area between the two patches of woods and walked along the outside edge of the far one. All the fields were filled with debris and stubble, soybeans and corn. Toward the far corner of the woods before it opened up again into another field, I crossed through the outer edge and stepped onto the wooden bridge that spanned a low swampy area. As I stood on the front edge of that bridge, some movement caught my attention to my left. At first I could not make out what it was, then it moved again about 30 feet away; a migrating woodcock. He had stopped in this thicket, as they so often do, searching for a juicy worm to eat by probing their long beak into the soft mud. I raised my camera to attempt a photo but he spooked before I could capture him. A short time later, I jumped him again a bit further down along the outer edge of the woods. I never saw him the second time until he jumped. It's amazing how well camouflaged they are.

Before long, I had made my way to the far end of the woods and angled across the back edge of the cornstubble field to the other pond. As I carelessly approached, a couple of deer trotted off through the woods. Should have known they might be there. I stopped for a few moments next to that small pond and listened to the wind again as it moved the tops of the trees and jostled a grove of cedars into activity.

I made my way back toward home, sidestepping and zig-zagging around muddy pools of standing rainwater. When I crossed over the backside of my yard I stopped for just a moment to sit in the old porch swing we have set up out there. The firepit was cluttered with debris and filled with leaves...time to clean it up and get it ready for a new season...but not today. Today I'm just digesting the moment and allowing nature to say a few things. I suppose the best way to do some digesting is simply to allow nature to hold you captive for a while. As far as that goes, nature can hold me captive anytime of year...even during the longest of months...