Rich

June 18, 2014
Moreau Lake State Park

Many a forenoon have I stolen away,
preferring to spend thus the most valued part of the day;
for I was rich,
if not in money,
in sunny hours and summer days,
and spent them lavishly;
nor do I regret
that I did not waste more of them in the workshop ...
    HDT, “The Ponds,” Walden

Last week, I  had three days of vacation, and thoroughly enjoyed each one.
I was never more than ten miles from home, but oh what glorious days.

The first day, a Wednesday, was more cloudy than sunny, but it was all mine.
After about two months of working on the new day schedule, I’ve been missing that morning air.

I drove over to Moreau Lake State Park and spent hours walking around.
No particular plans or destinations.

At trail junctions I would pause, then take whichever fork took my fancy.

I wandered along the edge of Odonata Shore, stirring up dozens of damselflies.
The irises stand elegant at the water’s edge

and attract butterflies.

The breezes kept any mosquitoes at bay, so even the deeper woods were a comfortable place to saunter.

Moments of bright sun alternated with shade. The cove was sprinkled with Water-Lilies.

Also in bloom were Daisies, Fleabane, Blue-Eyed Grass and the tiny Racemed Milkwort.

There was time for a mid-morning snack. 

Looking across Back Bay Cove, I saw Dave leading a school group on a hike along the Wetland Trail.

This flower always makes me think of Thoreau, when he wrote that he'd finally realized that the Year is a grand circle:
“Now I am ice, now I am sorrel.”

I made a circle of my own, walking around Mud Pond.
Even with the sky clouded over, it looked beautiful.

There the Frostweed was blooming its first flower of the year.
It will bloom again, with a smaller flower, and then in November with curls of frost.

When I got back to where I had started, I still wasn’t ready to come in.
The Big Beach was pretty popular, with picnic tables, snack bar and lifeguards; so I went over to Little Beach instead. Just an empty stretch of sand across the way.
I sat on a log at the water’s edge, dug my lunch out of the pack, and dangled my tired feet into the lake. 

Fourteen thousand steps today ! And none of them hurried.