The bright sun is radiating silvery sunbeams on a clear, cool day and only a whisper of wind is blowing.  The birds are chirping happily and hopping around within the bushes.  The trees hold their naked branches up into the heavenly blue sky.  On one side of the grassy path there is an open field where a lone cricket sings peacefully.  I brush against small daisy-like seed heads held on dry, blackened stalks and watch as their seeds fall down to the ground as I hope this spot is lush with daisies next year.  The other side of the pathway is the woodland edge, where several bushes are covered with an abundance of tiny blue berries hidden amongst the small oval leaves. Beneath the bushes, fire ants are busy repairing the rain compacted mound of wet soil.  

As I walk along, I notice a young tree no taller than 4 foot that holds a small bird nest tucked into the crook of the branches.  The outer nest is camouflaged with leaves and lined with fine grasses.  It’s now easily seen and vulnerable, where it once would have been sheltered and hidden from within the leaves during the growing season.  As I walked on, I couldn’t help but wonder which bird had raised a family there.  I also began to wonder about the things that occur in daily life that remain unseen.  I reach the end of the path, where the grasses are trampled from the frequent passage of deer.  Their tracks lead to small patches of bright green grass that are peeping up through the winter worn field.

Just a few steps further, I begin to hear the lovely splashing sound of a little stream.  I like the jaunty grasses that pop up along the lakeside.  Minnows quickly swim away from me as I walk along the water’s edge before turning to climb the sunny hill.  I decide to stop and enjoy this hilltop location, as it’s much warmer than expected.  This small hill is just high enough to look over a little patch of forest.  Grand Oaks and Birches are wide and arching.  American Gum trees stand tall and straight framing an understory of small Birch trees that still cling to their pale khaki leaves on branches that are surprisingly straight and horizontal.  With most all the trees bare of leaves, the bark colors are much more noticeable, there are various browns, grays that seem almost silver, and highlights of sea foam green lichens.  Such intricate details seem very prominent now that the trees are bare.

Not long ago, I watched as a tractor collected large rolls of hay from this field, but now the scene is very different.  Even though these Georgia winters are very mild and short-lived, I find myself missing the greenery of the summer passed.  But we have turned the page, and even though the days are beginning to lengthen now,  the period of sunlight is still very short, a reminder to enjoy these pleasant moments and find the joy of everything in its season.  

The sky is completely clear except for a small wispy cloud and a jet that seems perfectly silent as it leaves a trail through the sky.  In the sun and sheltered from the wind, you might think spring is here.  Grasses flourish in this little spot, and there is even the faint song of a toad still buried beneath the ground.  Sunbeams cast a dappled light onto the forest floor, and highlight a small plant with tranquil blue blooms, held above lobed leaves.  A delicate flower, snuggled up against a huge rock that remains mostly buried beneath the moist dirt.  Hepatica nobilis, often called by its nickname, Liverwort, is a native wildflower in Georgia, the first flower to bloom and usher us into the new year.  I think of it as a floral inspiration that we can still bloom even on the shortest days of the year; we can still rise above our circumstances.  I let my heart swell with all the ideas for new beginnings in the new year.  

 I spotted a branch directly across from me covered in resurrection fern.  These lush ferns spend a lot of time looking like crispy dried leaves.  Today the resurrection ferns are bright and vivacious shade of green after last nights rains.  With the increasing winds, the little fern fronds wave like little hands on each gust of wind.  I too, wave goodbye and I look forward to writing you next month as I explore this Glorious Georgia! 

Sincerely,

Jessica 🌸

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“Never give up on a dream just because of the time I will take to accomplish it.  The time will pass anyway.”  Earl Nightingale