After the rain the trails come alive. It hasn't rained since May, and we had a downpour on Sunday. Already the bracken fern are springing from between rocks, tiny grass is pushing between dead weeds and the smell of the dust has that damp, dead-but-coming-alive smell. I know that sounds weird, but hopefully forest people will understand. The yellow fall leaves now fall on a bright-green moss rock.
With trails like this I went on a nice walk with a friend. We meandered around, helping her with her bearings in the forest, no destination, trotted up a wide trail and took a quick turn onto a small path, winding up a hill, horses trotting along. Major was good, though he doesn't settle much, still hoping I'll ask for more miles, faster, farther...
Flood Testing Journey's Stall
1 hour ago