Roll #54: The Trails Are Alive With the Sound of Footsteps

Updated: May 8

A few weeks ago, trees were exploding with blossoms.



A few weeks before the explosions---emptiness. Branches were naked, skies were grey, and the wind, like a rabid dog, would bare its teeth the second you stepped out the door.


At present, although blossoms have fallen, in their place grows a healthy verdant foliage. Things are overwhelmingly green and over the next few months, the green will continue to grow at a breakneck pace.


Trees, like humans, walk alongside us on the trails. Their branches, like arms, reach out to touch us.

Pandemic or not, it feels good to get outside. We need the fresh air, dirt between our toes, and sweat on our shirts.

The sound of our footsteps on the trail, a partitia.


The rustling of leaves in the wind, a sonata.


The rushing of water, a symphony.


On the banks of the river, sand becomes pebbles.


Pebbles become rocks.


Rocks become boulders.


There is a calmness present which could never be imagined if looking at the turbulent heart of the river. Just as in the middle there is chaos, in the fringes there is peace.


With time the bubbles cast off by the collision of water and rock disappear---but only for a second until they are replaced by future generations.

The way back is steep and winding, yet pleasant. The path is flanked by whispering trees and babbling brooks.


Steps are not laborious, but rather, joyful. Each raise and fall of the foot a savor of the surrounding wilderness.

If you listen closely, you can hear Summer calling your name.

Camera: Minotla X-370N

Film: Kodak Portra 160

When: May 2020

Where: Savage Mill, MD

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©2019 by Taylor Mackay