Day 2- The First Trek

A New Beginning

Today was my first stroll in the wild wood,

The soft breeze refreshed my tired lungs;

The cheery birdsong refreshed my tired heart.

Journal Entry 2

We started the day by reading a piece by Tom Brown Jr., who is, perhaps,one of the renowned nature writers. We then went on a two mile trek through town to Delco Park, where YA author Rob Boley led us through a few writing games, the products of which you can see below. After 'warming up' our creativity, we were tasked with getting up close and personal with nature.Starting with a small area, we were to gradually get closer and closer to the ground, creating our own 'small world'. I found a nice, shady patch of clover that looked nice and began writing. After writing for a bit, I went for a stroll around the pond to enjoy the lovely weather. I managed to get up close and personal with some adorable goslings! 

Later, we did some yoga; I enjoyed it a lot. Some poses I was familiar with, but others were completely new. I learned a back stretch that seriously was amazing. We're going to do it outdoors soon!

Writing Games: Haikus

1.

Ancient trees stand tall.

Flimsy flower stems bend.

Beauty is pure here

2.

Some are not honest;

Could not tell who is lying.

Not being honest hurts.

Small World 

The patch of grass breaks into a patch of fluffy clover and it's distinctive white flowers. Part of the patch is shaded by a nearby tree, who's species I don't know.

 I kneel down to look closer. The grass is neat, but from this point of view it seems overgrown. I spot a dandelion fluff clinging to a blade of grass, fighting the breeze. The flowers bob back and forth in the breeze, but the clover sits close to the ground, unmoving. 

I lay down, belly against the earth. An ant creeps up a blade of grass near my arm. I can see tiny blue flowers mingling with the clover; the clover's rough edges are now apparent. A fly lights on a thick blade of grass, rubbing his legs together greedily, staring blankly with red eyes. I start to see more and more ants rushing through the grass; I discover a small, crumbling ant hill, russet-colored workers busting in and out. They are like too many of us, I think. Too busy to slow down and enjoy a minute of peace, too busy to notice the little blue flowers that life gives us.