My god Jenn you have a talent with words. This is the second post I’ve read of yours and they both deeply resonate with me.
I believe we are kindred spirits. I too know of the gifts that come from returning to a place multiple times. To a place that has “seen me in all my seasons”, as you so beautifully put it. Seeing it again for the first time. Yes! And spending time there. Allowing the place to change me…again. To look for what I could not see before. To consider it as much of an adventure as the first time I experienced it.
During covid I did this as well. I took two to three trips a month for a duration of two to four days each. I would pick out places I’ve been and ones I hadn’t, but in both cases I would go to these areas deep in the mountains and forests and just stay there. Soaking it up. And when I would return to some of these same places I would be treated to a whole new experience. It would be a different time of the year, or different weather conditions. Most of all though I was different when I arrived, and different when I left.
Change is constant. May we all stay present with it.
Thank you again for your kind words—they truly mean a lot. When I wrote this, a few trails came to mind, but one in particular stands out: a path that winds around a lake in a local state park. As a child, I walked it often with my mom—state parks were our vacations, and this one, the closest to home, became our escape.
Returning as an adult was a powerful experience. The trail had changed—boardwalks now stretched over places where we once tiptoed through mud, and the wildflowers seemed to bloom more abundantly. The lake, which once felt as vast as an ocean, appeared smaller, shaped perhaps more by memory than by shoreline. And then there was the tree—the one that leaned low over the water, the one I had climbed countless times as a child. I climbed it again as an adult. It had changed, I had changed, and yet, in some quiet, unspoken way, we were still the same.
For all the hardship and loss that COVID brought, I think it also gave many people something rare: the time and space to return to places that shaped them, to see them with new eyes, and to reflect in ways we hadn’t before. If there was any good to be found in that time of turmoil, perhaps it was this—the rediscovery of what had always been there, waiting.
This is beautiful. I, too, have places I return to, time and again. I love to see how they change with the seasons and the light. Each passing provides a chance to find something new.
I still discover new things on some of my favorite trails.
A few years ago, a friend mentioned a named pond at one of our local state parks. The rest of us had never noticed the pond - it was right by a trail that we frequent, but tucked behind tall grass. We were so insistent that there was no pond there, and the next time we all went we looked for it and found that, sure enough, there was a pond. (We call it Fake News Pond to this day because we all thought our friend had made it up).
I couldn't agree more. Novelty is all fine and dandy, but I've found that I feel the most fulfilled when really relishing in the places and spaces that are already mine <3
I absolutely love this! You've described what I've been thinking recently so perfectly!
"But there’s another kind of adventure in staying, in paying attention, in letting a place etch itself into you. We return not just for the comfort of the known, but for the surprises that arise when we look closer."
I take my dog on a trail multiple times per week, and I feel like we have a special relationship now, me and the trail. That trail knows all my inner thoughts, anxieties, and joys. And, for my dog, I bet there is so much going on there in terms of sights, sounds, and smells. Every time. Thank you for writing this and putting into words what I feel but couldn't communicate so eloquently!
My god Jenn you have a talent with words. This is the second post I’ve read of yours and they both deeply resonate with me.
I believe we are kindred spirits. I too know of the gifts that come from returning to a place multiple times. To a place that has “seen me in all my seasons”, as you so beautifully put it. Seeing it again for the first time. Yes! And spending time there. Allowing the place to change me…again. To look for what I could not see before. To consider it as much of an adventure as the first time I experienced it.
During covid I did this as well. I took two to three trips a month for a duration of two to four days each. I would pick out places I’ve been and ones I hadn’t, but in both cases I would go to these areas deep in the mountains and forests and just stay there. Soaking it up. And when I would return to some of these same places I would be treated to a whole new experience. It would be a different time of the year, or different weather conditions. Most of all though I was different when I arrived, and different when I left.
Change is constant. May we all stay present with it.
Thank you again for your kind words—they truly mean a lot. When I wrote this, a few trails came to mind, but one in particular stands out: a path that winds around a lake in a local state park. As a child, I walked it often with my mom—state parks were our vacations, and this one, the closest to home, became our escape.
Returning as an adult was a powerful experience. The trail had changed—boardwalks now stretched over places where we once tiptoed through mud, and the wildflowers seemed to bloom more abundantly. The lake, which once felt as vast as an ocean, appeared smaller, shaped perhaps more by memory than by shoreline. And then there was the tree—the one that leaned low over the water, the one I had climbed countless times as a child. I climbed it again as an adult. It had changed, I had changed, and yet, in some quiet, unspoken way, we were still the same.
For all the hardship and loss that COVID brought, I think it also gave many people something rare: the time and space to return to places that shaped them, to see them with new eyes, and to reflect in ways we hadn’t before. If there was any good to be found in that time of turmoil, perhaps it was this—the rediscovery of what had always been there, waiting.
This is beautiful. I, too, have places I return to, time and again. I love to see how they change with the seasons and the light. Each passing provides a chance to find something new.
I still discover new things on some of my favorite trails.
A few years ago, a friend mentioned a named pond at one of our local state parks. The rest of us had never noticed the pond - it was right by a trail that we frequent, but tucked behind tall grass. We were so insistent that there was no pond there, and the next time we all went we looked for it and found that, sure enough, there was a pond. (We call it Fake News Pond to this day because we all thought our friend had made it up).
You never know what you didn't notice.
I couldn't agree more. Novelty is all fine and dandy, but I've found that I feel the most fulfilled when really relishing in the places and spaces that are already mine <3
I absolutely love this! You've described what I've been thinking recently so perfectly!
"But there’s another kind of adventure in staying, in paying attention, in letting a place etch itself into you. We return not just for the comfort of the known, but for the surprises that arise when we look closer."
🙏❤️
Beautifully written!
I take my dog on a trail multiple times per week, and I feel like we have a special relationship now, me and the trail. That trail knows all my inner thoughts, anxieties, and joys. And, for my dog, I bet there is so much going on there in terms of sights, sounds, and smells. Every time. Thank you for writing this and putting into words what I feel but couldn't communicate so eloquently!