Today is the first time I have ever started up the mountain when it was raining and cold.

I have certainly gotten wet on the Trail before, but that is a rare occurrence, and happened when a storm kicked up unexpectedly in late summer.

In contrast, today is a raw, gray, mid-February evening. We have had rain for the past few days, and it was in the forecast again today. So there were no surprises.

I am not complaining here. Or at least I shouldn’t be. My dad recently shared that the Michigan winter has been so brutal that a friend who lives up there has not left the house in a week. Besides, my dad went out for a walk today too, and he is 88.

These two brave souls provided enough inspiration for me to break through my wimp status, enough to force me out and face the elements — light rain! Funny, even though it was only a slight variance in the weather, I felt like I was doing something new. Stepping past a barrier, even though it was a very small one in the great scheme of things.

And I was. Stepping out beyond a habituated pattern of walking only in “nice” weather. Interesting how we define whether the weather is nice based on how it suits our temperament, and not the earth or the animals. I wonder what they would have to say about today?

What I gained from venturing out today was a private path that belonged only to me, and a few other brave souls. I was held inside the forest walls for one brief hour, as if I had entered a grand cathedral.

I find this is especially true when I hike in the winter. The trees seem to know they must huddle together. Researchers say trees actually do communicate. I can’t help believe this is true.

I wonder how it varies from season to season. Do they look out for each other even more in temperature extremes? How do they experience temperature shifts?

I will have to find out and report back to you. Till then, may the forest floor support you, may the trees look after you.

~ KB