By Samantha Bean
Weekends are often a time of recharging and taking the time to do things we can’t fit in during the hectic weekdays. And if we’re lucky, we can silence our alarm clocks for a change of pace. On this particular Sunday, I was afforded the unique opportunity to not be jarred awake by a vibration across the room. Instead, I tried to guess the time of day based on the sounds of the birds and the light in my room peeking through the curtains. I honestly couldn’t tell if it was 6:15am or 8:15am. This was the first sunless morning we have had in several days.
On my way to the third hike of the season with the Force of Nature hike series hosted by Friends of Hopewell Valley Open Space, I was driving along accompanied by the Beatles tune on the radio, Here Comes the Sun. I was feeling optimistic, yet when I got to the parking lot, I left my sunglasses behind. As we began to greet each other in the parking lot, I was certain the sun would be out by the time the 2-mile hike concluded and I had already penned in my head the name for my post-hike blog courtesy of the Beatles. I could picture the blue sky one and half hours from now.
Romy Toussaint, our hike leader from RomYoga in Lawrenceville began our hike with some welcoming remarks and simple stretches to get our blood flowing. We began to listen to Romy talk about finding our strength and our energy. And more importantly, where we get it from. Listening to her analogy about power and how we tap in to it, I watched the energy of an unfamiliar bird fly over head.
The Mount Rose Preserve is a combination of trails all stemming from a large abandoned parking lot (soon to be completely dug up and converted to a meadow). As we finished our stretches and our introductions, within seconds of entering the trail, we were greeted by someone else who was waiting for the sun. A lovely black swallowtail was complacent and completely willing to allow several iPhones delicately go right up to her. Usually these papillons are so fast bouncing from plant to plant, but this one...still chilled from the night was simply waiting for her wings to dry.
As the trail meandered through eastern red cedars and across dry stream beds, we came across the fenced in area of a shrub and native plant restoration project, courtesy of FoHVOS. As we stopped, we looked up to the sky at the possibilities of the rumble of distant thunder. We kept walking and quickly dismissed the idea as not one of us was prepared with rain gear.
Smart weed and stilt grass lined the well-marked trail, and we were soon greeted with a little light refreshments, sadly of the non-native variety. Standing out amongst the greenery...the most vibrant beautiful shade of fuchsia: the tiny wineberry. Resembling a miniature raspberry, these hikers’ delights were a welcome treat along the trail. Some were easily accessed, others tucked away behind thickets and thorns, far more than just off the beaten path and unreachable.
After taking a picture of these delectable forage finds, and yes, eating half a dozen, I quickly checked the weather radar. I showed the radar scan to my hiking partners. As red as the wineberries we just ate, there it was, a band of thunderstorms making their way across the central part of the state. Wonder no more, that was indeed thunder we heard in the distance not too long ago.
Deciding to quicken our steps, we hiked further along the trail into an area of black walnut and beech trees. The trail was now free of grasses, but filled with leaf detritus and black walnut halves. I touched the smooth bark of perfect specimen of beech tree, a sullen yet warm light gray color. The bark, unscathed from the usual haphazard carved initials of lovers nearly began to mirror the color of the sky above. Walking deeper into the forest at a faster clip—focused on beating the deluge to our dry cars—our hearts began to pump a little faster and we began to feel like we were hiking all day as the forest hue took on a dusk-like undertone. I jokingly remarked: “Did anyone pack a flashlight?”
On a prior hike, I quipped, “when you are in the forest, do you hear the rain coming down through the leaves before you feel it on your skin?” Well, my question was answered at this very moment. And the third or fourth dry creek bed that we crossed would be dry no more. Our last two hundred yards of our hike we definitely got showered on. But not before we had time to stop along the one shaded, boggy pool where we were lucky enough to see a painted turtle. This little guy was just as adorable as Mr. July should be on any wildlife of New Jersey calendar. No bigger than a lime, this turtle was patient enought to be held and photographed, but swam away in a lick to hide back away in the stones and grass of the small stream.
Our hike culminated with rushed waves and hugs and a hurried goodbye. Yet when I sat back in my car slightly dampened and cool, I was refreshed from my morning hike and taking the time to be in nature, and yet all too quickly placed back into the daily motions of a Sunday. Thankfully, I did not wear a watch and I may not for the rest of the day. I’ll know for sure what time of day it is all too soon on Monday morning when I hear that vibration across the room.
This hike is one in a series of six hikes presented by Friends of Hopewell Valley Open Space and their Force of Nature Hike Series for Women and Girls. Join us on the next hike with Forest Bathing & Stream Side Meditation, August 26, 9:00am at Baldpate Mountain.
