My woods

The rhythm of the household has shifted now that fall semester is underway. Teaching gives my life a structure: one day I get a quiet morning at home to work, the next day is filled with classes and meetings, the next day, another quiet morning at home. Because I'm an extrovert, I enjoy the busy days on campus. Teaching energizes me, forces me to think about issues larger than my personal life. But I also value the days when I'm at home, working at my desk, exchanging emails with friends, and eating lunch by myself at the round wooden table that looks out the big glass windows to the woods beyond the house.

I don't go into my own woods much during the summer because the mosquitoes are fierce. But now that it's September, the bugs are gone, and I can walk amongst the trees behind my house without slapping at my arms constantly. I live in the sticks: a flat, wet landscape of young trees that grew up after some of the land had been logged or farmed, and groves of scotch pines planted by the CCC. There aren't any spectacular vistas or gorgeous lakes: just acres and acres of trees. Some of my trails follow old logging roads, others follow trails made by white-tailed deer. In a few more weeks, the foliage will turn spectacular shades of red and orange, but for now, the trees are mostly green and yellow and gold, the soft shades of early fall.