Hawthorn Hollow.

Hawthorn Hollow.

I’m on to some nature center shit these days.
Nature centers, sanctuaries, arboretums… Beaches, rivers, forests.. There’s something in my heart, and my soul that’s telling me to go there. Now. And be.
I am for serious, getting. back. to. nature.
Getting to know her. Becoming friends. I forgot she was there for a very long time.
Enough of all this sappy ballyhoo.

You had to sign into this cute place.

The book was placed on a glass case with bones and other treasures. I don’t know what those are called.. Horizontal shadow boxes? Curio counters? Ehh. Adorbs, is what.

This sanctuary was filled with more short trails, bridges, and gardens. Someone even had a house on the property. Lucky ducks.

My favorite part of this place was the Pet Cemetery.

My friend Sue and I discussed how it was a little too convenient that all of the grave markers were made from the same boards. They all had the same amount of weathering, though the deaths ranged from 1945-1990.
I have a feeling there were other markers that were destroyed by time, and things were re-marked.
Sue thinks it was all movie magic.
I like Sue. She loves life more than most, and makes you feel important in her world. It’s a privilege to know her.
She told me the song she picked to play when she steps up to the plate on her softball league is this.

Feel it.

After our jaunt at the sanctuary, we went across the highway to Petrifying Springs Park.
This felt more like some hidden river world next to a suburban park. We did some serious climbing, and parkour-ing up some steep hills. It was a good workout.

I am currently procrastinating packing for my trip to Pickeral, WI tomorrow morning. I do it every time I have to pack.
Pickeral is my favorite place on the planet. I go every year, I miss it more than I can say, and can’t wait to feel it’s energy.
We have so much planned, yet so little. Just the way Pickeral is supposed to be.