I went to the woods to escape society. To find quiet and peace, to see what the world was meant to be. I went to the woods to breathe easy, and to discover with wonder that a bed of flowers in the chilled shadow makes a fragrance better than any bottled perfume. I went to the woods to search for mushrooms, flowers, squirrels, birds – everything new and exciting. I went to the woods to remember, and I went to the woods to forget.
And while I went to the woods, I also went up hills. I did that for much the same reasons – to escape, to remember, to forget. But I also went up the hills because I could. To see that I could. To prove that I could – to myself, if no one else. I went up the hill and ran out of breath, but the air was crisp and clean, and somehow it wasn’t so bad. And then I reached the top, and the world started making sense again.
That’s what it’s all about. Go to the woods. Go up the hill. Reach the top, take a breath and see the world around you stretching as far as the eye can see.
I missed this more than I thought. The trees, the wet smell of the ground, the trail curving upwards, the challenge, even the breathlessness. But most of all I’ve missed the satisfaction of reaching the top, taking a breath, and realizing I’ve made it.