I began my day yesterday, walking with the gals and our four dogs—and a mighty hallelujah! The trail keepers have built a boardwalk over the trail where a huge lake forms every Winter on the path that I walk three mornings a week! Regina, Di and I were thrilled to see it—and to smell it. The fragrance of freshly hewn Cedar is spectacular!
It’s, perhaps, ten meters long, and during past seasons we’d forge paths through the forest to get around the lake—still on moist swampy land. It’s going to make a huge difference to our Winter walks because Sheba will be coming home without wading in mud.
Yesterday, however, there was no thoughts of mud; it was another beauty of a day. I came home from the walk to water the gardens. (Imagine having to water gardens in October in this part of the world!) Then I got to work on the Apples—peeling, coring, and slicing, washing the slices in Lemon juice, bagging them and putting them into the freezer. It’s work I enjoy doing and I’ll have fruit cakes all Winter.
Another meander through the forest was a spectacular way to spend my mid-afternoon. Sometimes, as we walked, I’d feel a slight push from a wind behind me that was fragrant and warm; the sensuousness of the sun on my skin, the silence, solitude and majesty of the forest all made me think of the Divine.
It’s hard not to philosophize whilst forest walking. The beauty and the sensual vigor are terribly stimulating. I’m very fortunate to have such a vivid sense of smell. It adds a lot to my enjoyment of life.
I’m over the diet thing. I only weigh myself periodically now, and I’m eating more. However, I’m still mighty thoughtful about all I eat, and I expect this is how I’ll live henceforth. No more binging eating of anything! My thin clothes are back in my closet and my fat clothes are bagged in my guest room.
It was foggy early this morning, but it’s burned off now. But I heard a foghorn this morning on our walk; I haven’t heard one for years. We’ll walk a lot today, I expect, and maybe I’ll spend some time working on the curtain in my studio. Anything could happen.