The most pleasing parts of the dirt path lead to undistracted views of natural settings. Some spots are remote enough to seem like one s own. I prefer the hiking and horse trails in upper Rock Creek Park, which afford a great game of chutes and ladders. I tire quickly on this hilly terrain, but if I ve put in the minimum puff and pant for my aorta, I slow to a walk and take potluck with the discoveries fatigue delivers. The cut to go slow is usually a dramatic change of lighting through the trees.
Animals rustle under leaves while birds practice their calls.
Once I stopped and my gaze fell upon a deer. Fallen branches, stones and moss form sculptures with flowing water beneath draped spider webs, particularly grand when trees are dripping from a recent rain as shafts of sunlight break through clouds. Monkeys howl like racing fans, a wolf sniffs the air, a jaguar jogs along as far as his small cage permits, and lusty polar bears ignore you altogether. When I m absolutely sure I m alone, I can do a sort of chirp while jumping up and down that makes prairie dogs leap out of their holes and sing. Once, after a prairie dog revival a tent evangelist would envy, I stopped by a bobcat with the forlorn expression of a prisoner of war.