Walking the Tracks

Being the art nerd I am, I spend a fair amount of time walking the railroad tracks that run through the woods behind my house, looking for interesting bits of trash to collect: shards of broken colored glass, tangled strands of rusted metal, odd railroad parts, metal industrial waste, doorknobs, and broken plastic. Yesterday David, Griffin and I trekked a few miles up the tracks, exhausted from extensive travel the day before and melting in the scorching summer heat, but drawn to the shade of a small watering hole about two miles from our house; one that’s home to fish, otters and beavers as well as offering some beautiful wild foliage along its banks. We again encountered a rabbit who fearlessly remained at arm’s length from us (thus reinforcing for me that the rabbit is still my current power animal, see my previous post) but the biggest joy of the day was discovering an enormous trail of pink and yellow hued smooth river stones that had fallen from a freight car in dribs and drabs over a fair distance. My inner rock nerd clasped hands with my inner art nerd and despite the physical discomfort of the afternoon (and the fact that I had accidentally spilled the bulk of my much-needed drinking water), it turned out to be a pretty sweet little journey.