Bluebells, New Leaves, and Sunshine

You'd never know it was spring by today's weather--extremely cold and windy.  The thermometer in my car said 35 degrees F when I left for work this morning, fully bundled in puffy coat, scarf, and gloves as if it were January. I refrained from shouting at Mother Nature though, having done that yesterday evening after being hit by a blast of chilly air as I left the office. I had some high-volume, choice words for her when I got into my car then. In spite of all the perspective-preaching from my previous entry, cold weather really does get me down.

This past weekend, by contrast, was glorious, the epitome of spring. I spent the better part of Saturday and Sunday outside, soaking up the sun and reveling in feeling the warm air on my bare skin, wearing only one layer of clothing (instead of the multiple layers required during winter). Although the roads are peppered with potholes--scars from their winter trauma--trees were heavy with blossoms and daffodils and tulips waved brightly from their stems.

I spent several hours communing with nature in Turkey Run Park, a slice of hillside and river bank bordering the Potomac just north of Washington, DC. I'd like to call my activity a hike but it was really more of a brisk nature walk with a few hills and rocks.  Oh, I also had to ford several streams, making me feel extra rugged in my sneakers and day pack.

Large sections of the trail were bordered by clusters of bluish-purple flowers (bluebells?) while the bright green fuzz of new leaves was visible on the trees.  The woods appeared to get greener the longer I walked, as if I were moving forward in time a few days with each step. Obviously an illusion but it nevertheless caused me to pay closer attention to signs of new life around me and in the canopy above.

Bluebells?

I'd driven past the sign for Turkey Run Park thousands of times but was never curious enough to investigate further. It's nice to know that, as long as I've lived in this area, there are still places and sites I haven't explored. I learned after my hike that the park is apparently a popular pick-up spot for gay men seeking anonymous sex and I can see why, given that it's lesser-known, not very crowded, and feels very secluded. Luckily, I didn't see any men loitering in the parking lot or on the trail--perhaps due to the fact that the restrooms were closed and there wasn't enough foliage on the trees and bushes yet to offer any privacy. In fact I encountered very few people, most of whom were out for a walk with their kids or dogs.

I did a strange, rambling sort of hike along a few different trails, totally about eight miles. I walked north from the parking lot up to the American Legion Bridge, the major bridge connecting Virginia and Maryland over the Potomac River.  Two men were fishing near its base and I didn't approach them but instead turned around to hike back the way I'd come.

The American Legion Bridge

After about an hour of heading more-or-less in the other direction, including a long detour on an adjacent trail, I stopped for lunch and a little journal time on a big rock on the bank of the river. It was so peaceful there, with the water gently flowing past and the sound of distant traffic only a mild shushing sound in the background. A duck wobbled out in the middle of the water for several minutes before leaping into the air, skimming the water with its wings. It flew a few yards to a cluster of reeds and rocks, where it joined a congregation of its fellows.

Lunch spot

The sun, warmth, and proximity to nature had a tremendous restorative effect on my soul, like a healing balm applied to raw flesh. I even began to consider forgiving Mother Nature for this horrid winter. With a few more weekends like this one in a row, I just might.

Green haze of new leaves