I’ve spent most of the week in a sleepy and apathetic state. There is a lot of frustration and latent tension at work, mainly between MA and myself. I am certain that it is on both sides. The more she’s frustrated, the more she pushes into the safe, mechanical and productive and the more I resist. The call of the deep and the wild has never been so irresistible as when something keeps me from it.

Forest is definitely medicine. As soon as I am in proximity of it, I exhale my frustrations, get out of my head and into my body. I am here, I am alive, I am paying attention. So many things are happening at once, but their unfolding is soft and never brutal, it surprises me without overwhelming. The trees are now surrounded by the pale green halos of new leaves. The browns on the last year’s leaves soften. They look like a cradle for the young ferns. I saw the red trilliums I’ve been looking for as I was leaving the forest.

But the most beautiful and unexpected gifts was the song of a white-throated sparrow. Now that I am used to the cardinals and robins, that sparrow totally caught me off guard. The most beautiful song I’d heard. I played it to my daughter in the evening. She said it was si-si-sol.