The Great Hart

I didn't lace up my shoes, I just shoved my feet into them even though it was more difficult. As I sipped my coffee I glanced out of the window. The sun barely showed through the trees in my backyard. It was 5:30 a.m., and I should have seen a sliver of light at least. Walking onto my back deck, I realized how thick the fog was this morning. It hung in the air, a cool mist. I didn't know why I always got excited to see a foggy morning. It just seemed so rare, making the day feel mystical. I was about to go for a jog through the town, but I wanted to be in the trees. Running through the forest on a morning like this was so exhilarating; I didn't want to waste it. I grabbed my water and headed out the door to my car, almost forgetting my cell phone on the way out. I would have to send my husband a message telling him my change in plans. He and our three girls would still be asleep by the time I got back anyway.

The Wild Cat Den State Park was only a short twenty-minute drive from my house. I loved the drive to the park almost as much as being there. The closer I got, the curvier the road became, and the taller the trees, the tops just beginning to turn to autumn colors. I came up over the hill, and I finally saw the sun glazing the clouds through the mist. As I turned into the entrance of the park I could hear my mother's voice in my head.

"Jane, make sure you take pepper spray when you run alone. I worry about you."

Shit. I had forgotten it. As I drove through the park I realized I hadn't seen a single person or car. The days were getting chillier now, and with the thick fog no one must want to come to the park today, besides me. Which was just fine.

"I don't think there are any psycho killers out today, Mom," I said while laughing to myself.

Being alone in the woods was, in my opinion, one of the best things a person could do for their soul. The park had a road running through it that began at the top of a hill and zigzagged down to the bottom near a stream. I parked my car at the bottom of the hill and opened my door to the scent of the woods. I couldn't help but close my eyes and slowly breathe it in. I checked to make sure I had everything I needed before heading onto one of the many trails. I started a playlist on my phone that I loved to listen to on mornings like this. The Fleet Foxes "White Winter Hymnal" began to play. I placed my car key and my phone in the pouch fit snuggly around my waist, put my wireless ear buds in my ears, and I was ready to disappear into the woods.

I went towards the path that I knew would take me down near the stream. First at a brisk walk, then as I neared the tall rock formations I picked up my pace to a jog. As the path curved down and to the left I started to hit my stride. I couldn't help but smile as the light breeze hit me in the face. The last time I'd been here alone I'd come across the most beautiful buck standing firm in the thick brush off the path. Before he spotted me and bolted for cover, our eyes had met. I hoped I would see another one. They're like the fog, magical and rare. If you don't seize the opportunity to be near one it'll be gone in an instant. I knew my chances of seeing one should be high today. All the nearby crops had been harvested. Hunting season was approaching and they would be looking for places to hide.

I began to sweat as I ran deeper into the woods. The further I got the more amazing the rock formations, the thicker the moss and the taller the trees. As I came up to the little bridge that my husband and I had carved our initials into one summer day, I saw a pile of trash. Wrappers and pop cans.

"Assholes," I thought.

Why anyone would come here and leave their junk behind, I'd never understand. I'd have to remember to bring a trash bag the next time I came. Maybe bring the girls and teach them about not littering. I continued on since I had no way to carry it all. Around the bend of the little stream that was trickling under the bridge was a set of steep, wooden steps.