Yes, it poured, it was pouring when we went out. Cold too. Wore boots for the mud, there was plenty. Fingers icy on my walking sticks, no gloves. Watched the raindrops plop on the Charles. Rain drenched the dogs and they didn’t complain, we stayed at it. Why? Because it’s my job. The job I choose. Nobody makes me do it; I decided I wanted to walk and blog my daily walk and my photos of what’s outdoors that’s natural and lovely to appreciate, to notice, to wonder about and to research. Who cares? I could stop. Turn around right now and go home and get dry. But I choose to be in these woods in this ritual. It’s for me. That’s who cares. Me. A very good reason to keep doing it. I’m wearing a hood. Like the skunk cabbage. I can think like a plant, like the naturalist Craig Holdredge who taught me about skunk cabbage says. Think like a plant. In the mud in the swamp with my red skin and warmth under my hood, I can be like a pollinator, first bees flying in and out, so there will be spring. In the brook, after walking for a long time, longer even than usual, I look down and see in the swirl of the water the green heart shaped leaves and tiniest yellow buds: a marsh marigold.
