These high narrow ridges snake around like ribbon candy between the roads and housing developments. The river was diverted by the ice, leaving a long narrow bay and my creek. If all you do is drive , you d never notice the creek. The bridges that cross it here and there are tiny anonymous things. The shores tend to be lined with trees and rotted logs and prickly clumps of bushes.
Paths appear, then vanish.
Much of it has a wild, secret feel. In fact, as I hike along some secluded parts or scramble under bridges, I often get a sudden sort of Blair Witchcraft chill. This is because I am at heart a city girl, suspicious of what lurks in the leafy shadows. And yet, what I love is donning the persona of outdoorswoman. Baseball cap and jeans of course.