A Saturday Morning Walk in the Woods

IMG_0077We’re going to take a little break from the bike today and use our feet instead. On the first Saturday in November, I decided to take my mom – another veteran expat and fearless adventuress – on a walk to see some of the places in the woods that I’d been telling her about for so long. We got up early and slipped out while Dad and our faithful pooch were still sawing logs (dear foreign friends, that is one of the strangest English idioms, I know, but it means they were sleeping very soundly).

We ventured down into the forest, hoping for some perfect leaves for pressing, some fine morning sunlight for pictures, and perhaps even some encounters with the local wildlife. We managed to get all three.

IMG_7471

A garland of oak leaves

The stream is gilded in the early morning light

The stream is gilded in the early morning light

Mom tries out my favorite bench

Mom tries out my favorite bench

When we reach our halfway mark, we stop to rest at one of my favorite spots.

Remember the deer from my first post about the golden woods? I’d been telling Mom about them, and we were lucky enough to encounter them again. This time the doe was standing on the side of the trail, keeping watch while her young ones (too big to be fawns, too small to be full-grown) browsed the bushes down by the stream.

Our friend comes out to visit us again

Our friend comes out to visit us again

She ignores us pointedly, hoping we'll go away, but we're forest tourists, so we stay awhile anyway and snap photos

She ignores us pointedly, hoping we’ll go away, but we’re forest tourists, so we stay awhile anyway and snap photos

When she thinks we're gone, she decides to cross the trail and see what the neighbors have growing in their back yard. Oh deer, you're going to get yourself in trouble this time.

When she thinks we’re gone, she decides to cross the trail and see what the neighbors have growing in their back yard. Oh deer, you’re going to get yourself in trouble this time.

Since we’re well-mannered forest tourists, we’ve got our cell phones switched to silent, but we figure Dad and pooch are probably up and wondering where we are by now, so we decide to head for home. We haven’t even gotten to the front door yet but we can already smell the breakfast cooking.

My dad makes a mean waffle

My dad makes a mean waffle

My dad is a master of all things brunch, and it’s just what we need after a walk in the cold November forest not long past dawn.

There was also bacon. Need I say more?

There was also bacon.
Need I say more?

Thanks for coming along! I wish I could send you along some those waffles and bacon, but I’ll have to settle for wishing you a great brunch, sometime this weekend. See you next time!

– Jennifer

Formerly expat gals are intrepid

Formerly expat gals
are always intrepid

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