I meant to be quiet on our nature walks.  A walk in the woods should be a meditation, I think.  At least, that’s what I decided today, though it is not my nature to be silent. As I walk I muse on the slogan on my shirt, Arma virumque cano…, “Of arms and the man I sing…” which is the opening of Virgil’s epic poem, the Aeneid. I try to think of other slogans.

We chat about the acorns and the walnuts – we almost tripped on the walnuts, as usual.  Then we see a strange animal, and wonder if it is a beaver, though it may have been a badger. 

It is fairly quiet, though it it is not a wild park.   It is an urban park, and in summer it is crowded with picnickers, fisherman, and people sprawling by the lake. There are slim trees, scraggy trails, and a paved trail, which we have chosen because it has rained for two weeks, and there’s mud everywhere.

Here’s what I’ve learned about hiking shoes: sneakers are the perfect footwear for almost every occasion. My white sneakers are for the the HD opera and art museums; my black sneakers are for the woods and the rainy days. 

Today I mixed my shoes up, and my white sneakers will never be pristine again. The  black sneakers  don’t show the mud, because they are already crusted with mud, so what’s a little more mud?  “Here’s mud in your eye!” says Hazel in Dorothy Parker’s “Big Blonde.” This is how Hazel toasts the cleaning lady after she is resurrected from suicide.

What did I see in nature today?   Dozens of monarch butterflies, which are now an endangered species, with their flight patterns disturbed by climate change, so I am thrilled to see them, ghosts from the past, from a time when scientists warned us about climate change, before it had dried up rivers and caused never-ending wildfires. .

We also saw a hawk – there’s always a hawk – they soar, they swoop, they’re beautiful from a distance, but I don’t like the look of them close up.  There were geese on the lake – there are always  geese. And there was a goldfinch, and a Great Horned owl.

At the end of the walk, which came much too soon, I told my Other Half the plot of Charlotte Bronte’s Villette, because he had never heard of this masterpiece.  I said off the top of my head that the psychedelic scene is Hesse-esque.” Why did I say this? There’s an academic article lurking in there.

And then we are peaceful and silent on the way home.