How I walk in my beloved aspen stands (the ones trying to survive our extreme pollution and heat) is how Mary Oliver did (before I learned of her). My last walk, the fox and her kits came along, the one before that, a pair of pileated woodpeckers.

How I Go to the Woods by Mary Oliver

Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore unsuitable.

I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of praying, as you no doubt have yours.

Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds, until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost unhearable sound of the roses singing.

If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love
you very much.