Last year, I decided I wanted to go to all the Forest Preserves in Lake County. Winter kind of put a hindrance on that, but I did make it to a few, heading out in big boots and down jacket through a foot of snow on a sunny morning. I have picked back up this pursuit and was down in the south/west corner of Lake County on Sunday on my way to church and decided to use up my extra half hour exploring a new one: Heron Creek. It was, of course, lovely. They all are. It was a quiet, sunny and happy Sunday morning and I found myself saying St. Francis sorts of prayers of thanksgiving: Thank you God for the new green of trees, for clouds tumbling over my head, for little birds singing morning songs to me, for trickling creeks that soothe, for the earth, for legs to walk fast on…

It was dusk and big flakes were still falling, coating everything in the woods. Right when you enter the woods you encounter a very old pine grove that is stunning. Stunning in the sense that it centers you, stilling the resonating places within that need quieting. These old evergreens have a way of putting me at rest the moment I enter, particularly with the hush of snow that comes over one, that really deep quiet of snow.
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I start walking and within a few paces I hear the hoot of an owl not far off. Amazed, I stop in my snowy tracks. I walk a bit farther and I hear it calling to me again. I stop. What a magical sound that was: the deep quiet of the snow and the hooting owl. Stunning in the sense that I felt so special to be able to catch the brilliance of the woods in that very moment. No one else was there in that moment but me.

I keep walking, hearing the owl calling now and then. From the distant trail, I can see someone coming with a dog that is running. They approach quickly and before I know it there is the most extraordinary thing before me: a man “cross country skiing” with 2 large ropes attached to his dog like reigns pulling him along. What a smart dog owner! They both looked like they were having fun. They went a bit past me and turned around and as the man “cross country skied” past me a second time, he says in a Santa Claus sort of voice, “Beautiful isn’t it…that owl in the woods.” And off he went. I felt stuck in my tracks and mesmerized by the entire experience.

I fear the owl was not so keen on the dog/skiing man contraption and did not call to me from that point on. I only walked for a bit longer and turned around for my little toesy-woesy’s were getting cold. I came home straight away and told Audrey about the owl and she was dazzled.

We have checked out from the library a book many times because I, in particular, really enjoy it. It is called Owl Moon. I believe it is an older book. The story goes something like this: a father takes his small daughter out owling in the woods as if it is a family rite of passage. To go owling involves bravery, patience, and utmost quiet and, I guess, the ability to keep up with your long-legged dad. The woods are captivating, the moon is powerful and bright and in the end they hear an owl and even spot it in the tree. Audrey and I were inspired to do this ourselves. There is another children’s book we adore called “Miss Spider” and there is one short story where she takes one of her little adopted children on a “listening walk”. Owling and listening walks have a pull on little Audrey Anne’s curious and adventurous heart.
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So off we went tonight, owling in Lions Woods. It was dark, there was not much moon, a sliver in fact. The woods were thick with darkness, the snow was packed down under our feet. We had flashlights in our hands but I found that the beam of the light made it more eerie. Quiet and some more quiet. We started in and I bent down to look under the many layers of hoods and hats into my daughter’s eyes to make sure she didn’t have on her wide eyed owl panic look. Nope. She was game for adventure. We walked on and ever so often we would let out a hoot of our own, first me and then Audrey echoing, calling to the owl. Stop, listen, listen more deeply. Nothing. Keep walking. We repeated this for some time until we were deep in the grove of pines and still no owl calling to us. I was the one to turn us ’round and head back. I think Audrey could have kept walking in those woods, searching, waiting, listening. What a remarkable little owl watcher she is.

As we came out of the woods into the parking lot, she says to me, “That was fun!” I smiled.
“Were you scared at all?”, I asked her.
“Nope.”
“I was.”

This past Sunday, after a long day of work, I quickly dropped off my nursing equipment and exchanged it for Judy’s comfy bike and escaped to Van Patten Woods. It is the most northern wooded area before you reach the Wisconsin border. It was a perfect autumn day and I just relished every moment of it. I think the highlight for me was watching people horseback riding through the yellow, orange and copper leafed woods. It was so picture perfect. I decided I need a horse and that horseback riding is the preferred way of traversing a wood. Not on foot, not on a bike. One must be on a horse.

Up next: the Wadsworth Savanna.

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