My woods

 I loved the woods surrounding the subdivision where I grew up. As a young boy filled with adventure, I would spend hours among the giant pines and white birches, especially in the winter months when blankets of snow covered the ground. It was quiet during that time of the year, as many woodland creatures slept through the long winter.

The crunch of my boots on the snow and the occasional snap of a tree limb too weak to bear the weight of the snow created sounds of nature around me. Sometimes, I would pick up a fallen limb to use as a walking stick until I grew tired of carrying it and tossed it aside. 

There were streams in my woods where I would float sticks and test the ice that formed, eventually halting the water's flow until spring arrived. Deep into winter, I would ice skate along the frozen streams, reveling in the frozen wonderland that was my woods.

As I grew older and made friends, the woods continued to play a significant role in our lives. We ventured deeper into the forest, exploring the magic of the towering trees and flowing streams that turned into large ponds. As soon as the ponds froze solid, we played ice hockey.

We would set up a fire in a hundred-gallon barrel we brought to the pond, a place to warm our hands and occasionally make s'mores. The pond became a gathering spot for families, where they brought their kids to learn how to skate and enjoy the woods just as I had.

As the subdivision expanded and more of the woods were cleared to make way for houses, the forest's size diminished. However, thanks to a city ordinance, most of the woods remained untouched by heavy machinery.

Today, I ventured back into my beloved woods, greeting the pines and birches I hadn’t seen in years. The young trees, now towering into the sky, seemed to wave to me, and the sounds of small creatures welcomed me, knowing I had brought treats to ease their burden of gathering food in the deep snow.

I found a tree stump where I sat in silence as squirrels approached, taking morsels of food from my hand without fear. Minutes passed, and soon more of the woods' smallest inhabitants gathered inches away as I scattered pieces of apples and frozen berries I had retrieved from my freezer.

Not long after, I heard branches rustling and was delighted to see a magnificent deer, a rare sight. I sat very still, and after what felt like a long time, it emerged from the protection of the trees and walked closer, allowing me to offer it some apple pieces and a few carrot chunks. Its gaze never left mine as it ate, and when it realized my hands were empty, it turned and walked back into the trees. I stayed seated for a while longer until the cold from the stump drove me to stand up and continue my journey through the wonder of it all, with my love for the woods stronger than ever.

Now, as an older man, I have to be cautious during my days in the woods, fearing a fall or sinking into icy water. I remain vigilant, watching for deep holes and snares set by hunters, which I would dismantle to save a life.

Now that I am old and unable to venture out much, my days are spent gazing out the window at falling snow while a small group of creatures and one large deer stand at the edge of the woods, wondering where I am and what happened to the treats. It breaks my heart, so I grab my coat and gather everything I can find in the fridge before heading to the edge of my woods, where my old friends are waiting. They eagerly take treats from my hand and scamper back into the woods, but the deer stays behind, looking into my eyes in gratitude for what I did when others didn’t care.

As it walks back into the trees, it takes one last look at me, as if remembering this moment might be the final time it trusts anyone the way it trusted me. A frozen tear rolls down my face as I hope to never forget them all.

Mike, 2025