A Walk in the Missouri woods

It felt like home--hot, humid, sun beating down in the middle of the day. The place was green, so very green. The woods were lovely, the paths narrow and rocky, the moss inviting my little girl self to sit upon it.

The creek was wider than the Little Sac which ran between our farm and the church farther out in the country. The Meramec River, which bounded the property on one side was wide and dark, the current barely visible in most places.

My walks were early--between 5:30 and 6:15 am so I could shower, dress and be ready for our first meditation (centering prayer) at 7:00 am with breakfast following at 8:00, all in silence. I tucked the camera in my pocket and watched for the light to filter through the woods and shine on the water. A couple of mornings during the seven mornings I was there, another person out for a run or walk broke the silence briefly, but most mornings I saw no human--birds the primary wild life.

Before the sun came up, the woods could look dark and foreboding as I entered them, but once on the path, familiarity took over. The cliffs near the Meramec, one pictured here, reminded me of the cave that we explored in good and not good ways. The wide path in the photograph is by the Meramec; the last photo is near the narrow trail I usually walked in the morning.

I haven't lived in Missouri in 44 years, yet the familiarity of the trees, grasses, hills and the few flowers blooming in the heat was instant. The grass drenched with dew so that it wet my sneakers if I walked through it for more than a few feet reminded me of the morning dew in our yard and the field next to it. The mixed birds' songs, though I couldn't name all of them, were familiar. Other than my walks, my favorite morning time was sitting on the back patio with a cup of coffee between meditation and breakfast, drinking in the landscape in silence.

Recently on a walk up Boulder Canyon on open space that had been a ranch, I found two of my favorite childhood flowers--red clover and daisies. In my mind, I transplanted them to the Missouri landscape and thought that a settler from the Midwest had once owned that ranch. They would have been in a meadow rather than in the woods.

Interesting how geography stays with us, especially if the outdoors was important to us growing up, as it was to me. Spending regular time communicating and immersing in Nature again brought home to me why I revel in God's handiwork and hope that we don't destroy it.

When I process more of the retreat and training, I'll share about the indoors experience.