When I started walking, I felt my legs sort of stiff. They were resisting this exercise, like it was unfamiliar and certainly unwelcomed. I kept pushing forward thought, and continued walking.

As I walked, I took a deep breath, pausing to look at all there was around me. The ground, still crisp from winter leftovers, crunched under my feet. The air too, was cool, as it filled my lungs and invigorated me. My pace quickened, the crunching under my feet increased like popcorn popping.

I saw the confused scurrying of squirrels and chipmunks around me. They obviously didn’t understand why winter was still sticking around either; their bellies grumbling as food stashes would have run out long ago.

The trees bent and swayed in the breeze, doing their tall dances, not yet fully clothed for the spring. I see some buds of flowers come up from the ground; they too, weren’t expecting the world to be blanketed in white.

My heart goes out to the confusion in nature. Afterall, that was why I started walking – to sort out the confusion in my own life. Camaraderie with nature in our mutual confusion. But I kept walking. Looking for my answers. Watching the world around me. Waiting for undeniable signs. Wanting the universe to say “Here! This is what you should do!” and instead I find more introspection. Longing for the easy way. Knowing deep down the only way to have this pass, is directly through. So I settle in with my forest friends, listening. For afterall, listen contains the same letters as silent…