When Nature Calls

My poor dog.

I’ve been writing a lot lately, and it’s been cold. So I haven’t been taking her on long walks. 

She sits at the window in my office where she can watch the pond, and whines when she sees other lucky dogs going for a walk. 

She whines as she watches the squirrels running up and down the trees and gives me her deepest, intense, puppy-pleading eyes. 

Yesterday I accepted her pleading and decided it was a good time for a break. At 45 degrees, it was the warmest it would be for the day.

As soon as I said the magic phrase, “Wanna go for a walk?” She was spinning circles and running down the stairs to find her leash.

She darted out the door, and we were on a sprint up the hill. 

Walking is a great diversion from writing. 

Writing is so sedentary that it’s good to have a reason to get up every once in a while. And walking stirs the creative rhythm and puts life back into the words.

After our initial sprint, she calmed down and followed the scent of all the other creatures that had crossed the trail. 

When our pace slowed, I noticed a deer further up the trail. As we approached, I realized it was actually five deer. Two took off as soon as they saw us, but the other three watched us cautiously. We approached slowly and quietly. 

I wondered if they were the three I’d been watching all summer. Two no longer had their fawn spots, but they still had white rings around their noses. They kept looking at the other deer, and I assumed it was their mother. One turned and almost bolted but then noticed that the mother was standing still. And so, it copied her behavior. Continually checking to see if she was going to move. 

But she wasn’t in a hurry to go anywhere, and she sniffed the air. 

We kept walking along the trail, and as I turned back, the deer resumed eating. I was entranced by the opportunity to be so close to them. 

We continued our walk until we approached the more forested part of the trail. 

Yesterday I didn’t have earbuds in to listen to a podcast or audiobook. So I clearly heard the birds calling. The squirrels ran up the trees and scolded us when we startled them.

I was appreciating all the sounds of nature when I heard a lot of rustling. 

At first, I couldn’t figure out what was making the commotion. I didn’t see anything rustling through the dry grass and leaves, but it sounded like something big was moving around.

Then I noticed my dog was looking up. 

When I looked up, I saw a huge flock of small birds swooping over the tops of the trees.

As they flew together, they turned direction as if they were synchronized swimmers. The sound of their abrupt change in direction was a swooping and fluttering of wings. The noise I hadn’t been able to locate. 

The setting sun highlighted their wings as they swooped over the treetops. 

I stood transfixed by the sights and sounds. 

My dog sat back on her haunches and was watching too. Intrigued by these creatures in flight.

Then it started to rain.

But it wasn’t rain.

I heard the drops hitting the path, and then my jacket, and then I felt it drip down my neck.

It wasn’t water.

It was the deep color of purple from all the berries around us.

Ewwww. 

Luckily I had a napkin in my pocket. 

I wiped off the bird poop and decided it was time to continue my walk away from the circling birds. I would have to enjoy them from a different vantage point.

I laughed to myself, knowing it was an obvious result of staring up at a flock of birds.

When I got home, I threw my jacket in the washing machine. 

My pleasant walk with nature might have ended unpleasantly, but it was worth every minute. It was still fun. And it didn’t erase what had happened before.

I read once that our minds hold on to the negative more than the positive.

So that if we have a beautiful vacation and then it rains on the last day, it can wipe out the memories of all the other days.

It would be easy to let this “rain” ruin my nature walk.  

For a few minutes, the bird poop made me forget all the other wonders I had experienced. But when I slowed down and thought back through the whole walk, I remembered the deer, the squirrels, and the beauty and sounds of the birds in flight. It was refreshing to be in the brisk cold and see animals enjoying their natural habitat. And those experiences were worth remembering.

Sometimes it’s tough to see the good in our lives. Often the unpleasant experiences take over the almost ordinary daily miracles. 

Our brains want to protect us and remind us that there is danger out there. To keep us safe, our brains naturally take notice when things go wrong and hold on to it. Make us take notice. 

It takes more work to pause and notice the normal things that went well. To appreciate our everyday successes. Perhaps that’s why writing in a gratitude journal or telling someone your 3 successes for the day can be a powerful, healthy habit. You remind your brain that it did its job and helped you enjoy some good things too. 

Tomorrow it’s supposed to be a little warmer. My dog will be begging for a walk, and we’re going to go out again. I’m not going to stay inside over a little rain because there’s still a lot of wonder to experience. 

But it might be a good idea to bring an umbrella.