As the days are getting longer, and the sun is shining on a cloudless sky more often, I feel the need to take advantage of that and get out of the city. On one Wednesday morning I hopped on a train and literally twelve kilometres later I found myself in a completely different environment. It seemed to me unbelievable that I’m living so close to nature and I’d never really been there on my own.
Without further hesitation, I went into the woods. Despite the fact it was early February, I could easily notice lots of green standing out from a snowless-winter scenery – stones covered with a thick layer of moss, dark ivy hanging from the trees, lush ferns following the path, acres of grass on the open fields. And most of all, first snowdrops which, together with an unusual high temperature, emphasised the upcoming spring even more.
Having the heavy yet somehow pleasant wind as a company, I reached the top… and my breath stopped for a moment. Even though the peak was merely a bit above 500 metres a.s.l. the view all around was simply astonishing. Perfect clarity of the air made it possible to see the snowy mountains far away in the north. I was speechless – but I could hear somewhere behind my back “Ah, che bello…!” I coudn’t agree more.
Back then I had no idea that a few days later I’d be watching the view from the opposite direction. I asked a friend about the plans for a weekend – and soon we were driving north, towards Dolomites. While gaining the height, the ground got thicker and thicker layer of snow, making it feel impossible that some kilometres ago there was no winter at all.
I can’t describe the awe I felt seeing a deeply frozen lake in front of a forest and rocky tops behind it. Hiking through the snow and with every single step getting closer to those peaks. Watching from above the valleys we were passing by not so long time ago. And thanks to the still air, being able to hear the real silence – sometimes interrupted by the flutter of bird’s wings or its singing. It made me realize how difficult it is to find a truly quiet place, and that we are always surrounded by sounds which we don’t really notice – untill they’re gone.
Every time I go somewhere, I come across such beauty that after coming back home I can’t believe it was real. No matter if that’s a few kilometres outside the city or a few hours of driving, a meeting with a squirrel in a park or a chamois high in the mountains, a stroll in a tiny forest or in a national park. I feel it’s not about the place in particular but more about our attitude. Being grateful for whatever happens, whatever we meet on our way.
That’s the most precious lesson I got last year.
woodland soul 