How I Go to the Woods

                      HOW I GO TO THE WOODS

Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single
friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore 
unsuitable.

I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds 
or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of 
praying, as you no doubt have yours. 

Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit
on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds, 
until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost
unhearable sound of the roses singing.

If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love
you very much.

-Mary Oliver

When I first read this poem, I was reminded immediately of myself. I enjoy hiking with friends and family, but when I am alone in the woods photographing whatever catches my eye, it feels almost magical, secretive, wondrous. Mary Oliver’s poem resonates deeply with me – I like to talk to the catbirds and woodpeckers, hug the pines and firs, be alone amidst the trees. Here are some photos that remind me of how I go to the woods, and how the woods in turn stay with me.