When we lived on Sweetwater Farm in Ohio, one of my favorite activities was to get in the car and explore country roads. I drove past Amish farms and waved to children playing softball or to mother's hanging wash on clotheslines. I headed towards the Amish farmstead where a young boy sold me yet another jar of honey, along with vegetables and flowers. When we lived in Madison, WI, I followed back roads to neighboring small towns. One town, Spring Green, is home to one of my favorite bookstores, Arcadia Books, and another, Mt Horeb, has a small cafe with the best quiche ever. Made with real cream, for sure. In the fall I made sharp right or left hand turns when I saw signs saying "Pumpkins For Sale."
In Ohio we lived in the country ourselves and even though we lived in an urban area in Madison, it didn't take long to be out in the country. As much as I love our life in St Paul, I miss getting in the Jeep and going who knows where.
One day this summer Bruce and I, along with grandson Peter, went to the Belwin Conservancy near Afton, MN, a surprisingly quick and easy 30 minute drive. We went there to see a herd of buffalo moved to the restored prairie there for a summer residency. I was stunned by the beauty of the area and how quickly we got there.
I tucked away the thought, "I could come here and walk the trails."
And that's what I did last week.
I googled directions, put on my walking shoes, emptied a few essentials from my purse into a backpack, grabbed a bottle of water, and my "Girls on Safari" hat, and off I went. In thirty minutes I was there and on a trail, where I walked for 40 minutes or so and then in another 30 minutes home, congratulating myself for my spontaneity.
And for discovering a way I could meet a need, something I long for--not everyday, but sometimes.
Bruce and I love to wander together. In fact, the next day we drove down along the Mississippi on the Wisconsin side and then home on the Minnesota side, stopping at Frontenac State Park with its glorious views of the river. But I know I need to give myself those roaming times on my own, too. Not often, but now and then. Now I know where to go. In the winter I will take my snowshoes.
I felt renewed, restored. Awake. Uncluttered and unmuddled. Grateful and blessed.
I felt more like myself.
An Invitation
What landscape calls to your inner self, and how can you give yourself that gift? I would love to know.
