As I grew older I attempted to hang on to some of that healthy behaviour by visiting those woods on foot as much as possible. Now the closest thing to a forest for me, is the line of trees dividing my home from the highway and railroad track beyond. And that's not the saddest part about it either. Well, this past weekend, some friends and I were on a mission to change all that. To the outskirts of the suburbs we rumbled until we found the long path leading up to the gates of the arboretum.
Nature has a gate.
We slowly advanced down the path, in the truck of course, because there's no parking even remotely near the private forest. The landscape is setting our mood for the afternoon, beauty, tranquility and the ancient wonder of the overhanging Weeping Willow trees we pass beneath as we go. At the gate we are informed that access to the arboretum is five bucks a head and that Nature closes a five o'clock. We unanimously decided to make like a tree - and leave. It wasn't the money of course, it was the principal.