This week, I was forced against my will to take a nature walk. I did not enjoy it. And when I'm miserable, dear reader, I like to spread the joy. So you're coming on this stupid hike with me.
The exercise freak who lives with me insisted we'd see "nature." And we sure did: mosquitoes, ticks, piles of dog poo (honestly, people, clean up after your pets! I was going to take pictures of the deposits, thinking it would be funny, but by the twelfth or thirteenth pile, I was too disgusted with humanity to see the humor anymore). And the flora! How could I forget the flora?
If you look closely at this snapshot, you'll see all kinds of stuff: maybe a little Queen Anne's Lace, some poison ivy, and a weird-leafed plant that looks a lot like marijuana but I have heard from a reliable source is not.
In other words, weeds (and again, let me reiterate, not weed).
If you look closely at this snapshot, you'll see all kinds of stuff: maybe a little Queen Anne's Lace, some poison ivy, and a weird-leafed plant that looks a lot like marijuana but I have heard from a reliable source is not.
In other words, weeds (and again, let me reiterate, not weed).
So far, I was not impressed. Also, although I'd soaked my clothes and belly bag with insect repellant, a swarm of mosquitoes quickly alerted me to the fact that I'd missed a spot on the back of my right elbow. I was about to turn heel and stalk back to the car when a small child up ahead on the path squealed, "Turtles!"
Can you see the turtles in this photo? Me neither. But that stupid little kid kept insisting there were some on a log in the water past the trees here.
I think that kid was a dirty rotten liar.
Can you see the turtles in this photo? Me neither. But that stupid little kid kept insisting there were some on a log in the water past the trees here.
I think that kid was a dirty rotten liar.
I was ready to call it quits. I'd already walked at least a half mile, given a pint of blood from my right elbow, and had yet to see one stupid animal. Then the pants-on-fire kid yelled, "Rabbit!"
Well, what do you know. Yup, that right there is a rabbit. Tiny one, too. One might call it "cute." Of course, if I wanted to see a rabbit, I could just look out my window to the back yard, where those evil little big-eared rodents like to relax and digest their meals after wreaking havoc on my garden. I've had to replant the lettuce twice already. So sure, yeah, seeing a bunny on the trail was exactly what I'd been hoping for.
Well, what do you know. Yup, that right there is a rabbit. Tiny one, too. One might call it "cute." Of course, if I wanted to see a rabbit, I could just look out my window to the back yard, where those evil little big-eared rodents like to relax and digest their meals after wreaking havoc on my garden. I've had to replant the lettuce twice already. So sure, yeah, seeing a bunny on the trail was exactly what I'd been hoping for.
I was getting a bit hungry at this point, and I hate to admit it, but my normally sweet and bubbly disposition tends to fray around the edges when I haven't been fed. "Isn't there a @!##!! McDonalds on this stupid path?" I asked my walking partner (I used to refer to him as my husband, but seeing as he's the one who made me take this hike, he has since been demoted to roommate, and believe me, I'm about ready to change that, too, if he asks me to sync up this shackle he calls a Fitbit one more time). He started walking faster, almost like he didn't want to be around me, but I knew that was a ridiculous notion, and then I saw it: he'd just sprinted right past a perfectly good pancake.
My mouth watered. My lips smacked. And then, right as I was about to bite in, the little liar kid from earlier shouted, "Mushroom!"
Except, in a cruel twist of fate, he was not fibbing.
I hate mushrooms. Incidentally, in case it's not clear yet, I'm not too fond of nature at the moment, either.
My mouth watered. My lips smacked. And then, right as I was about to bite in, the little liar kid from earlier shouted, "Mushroom!"
Except, in a cruel twist of fate, he was not fibbing.
I hate mushrooms. Incidentally, in case it's not clear yet, I'm not too fond of nature at the moment, either.
Finally, after what felt like days in the woods with not a single real pancake in sight, it was time to turn around and head back. We'd been walking for at least forty minutes, and covered almost a mile and a half. I was done. And starving. But you'll be happy to know I came through it like a champ. Here's a snap of me, appreciating the beauty surrounding me.
What? You thought I was kidding about the belly bag?
What? You thought I was kidding about the belly bag?
RSS Feed