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A Walk in the Woods

I went for a walk in the woods today.

The sky was blue and the air still held a kiss of springtime cool, though it was warm enough for a tank top.

As I strolled around, looking at what was growing, I thought of the walks I would take with my Dad when I was a child, and of the times he would let me come with him when he went trout fishing.

I must have seemed like a mosquito in his ear on those walks or fishing trips: a talkative, imaginative child bubbling over with questions and ideas. Looking back now, his patience was saintly. He did tell me sometimes that fish wouldn't bite if we weren't quiet. Then I would quietly line up his bait worms on a nice, flat rock, so they would be ready for him when he needed one. I'm sure that was helpful.

It was high in the Colorado Rockies that those observing, contemplating, conversational strolls happened. I can still see my Dad in my mind's eye, walking along with his hands clasped behind his back. Mom never went on a walk that I c…

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