Autumn Young and Old

The crisp autumn air beckoned, and my 3 1/2 year old grandson lead the way, as he, his mother and I blazed a trail through the woods of Clifford Park. Trails marked with blue, green, pink and yellow blaze, helped to chart our route in and out. The air was heavy with organic smells of decomposing fungi, leaves and dropped pine cones. Sun rays shone brightly and occasionally kissed and warmed our cheeks as we climbed rocky hills, and slid down steep inclines. My grandson quickly learned that round acorns underfoot are even more slippery than winters snowy trails. Fleet feet became slow and cautious, when acorns dropped madly from the mighty oaks. Feelings of nostalgia flooded my memory banks as I listened to my daughter coach her son in careful trail trekking, advising to mind the tree roots that rise up out of the ground in their sneakiness to trip passers by. Memories of my own mothering and nature lessons to my young ones decades ago. Nature has a way of reminding us that life is a never-ending circle. Generations handing down stories and sharing memories during a crisp Autumn walk in the Maine woods.