Mississippi

Today we took a long walk and found wilderness in the city. Nearby, a green forest grows on a steep hill carved by the persistence of water. A scenic drive and a long trail that tempts my inner biker run alongside it, but it was the path's frequent unpaved digressions into the woods that held our attention. For hours we followed footpaths made muddy by last night's rain, traversed steps crafted by nature out of tree roots, slanting slippery steps built long ago by men out of square logs, and easy curving stairways of the same sedimentary rock that towers over the hillside. This version of nature came with a heavily graffiti-ed railway bridge, a slightly toxic smell, and just a little wildlife. But there were squirrels and a flying kestrel, and tracks left in the sand by not only shoes and dogs but also raccoons and what may have been--Eric said--a blue heron. I came home happy, with dirty feet and creaking muscles. We'll be back to explore other fractions of the riverbank, on other days.