Last Sunday we went for a walk in the woods. No, not in the Appalachians like Bill Bryson, but a small nature trail down the Bitterroot Valley south of us.
First we were greeted by lupine, those delicate purple flowers that seem to carpet forest floors.
The trail drifted through a dark forest of tall firs and pines to a little stream. Not marked too well, we took a few wrong turns and had to go from rock to rock to get across a small stream, but eventually we got to Bass River.
The stream gushed with water from the mountains that had received more snowfall a few days before, chilling the air around it. Moisture loving trees and ferns decorated the bank. Standing near it filled me with peace and potential hope for the world.
The walk eventually emerged into open grassland, and the temperature changed dramatically. A clump of blanket flowers huddled under a wide-limbed tree.
We didn’t see another soul on our walk in the woods. It was the perfect place to touch nature.
These walks are important because they remind me of the beauty of where I live so I can put a taste of it in my books like Home Is Where the Heart Is. Enjoy!