Whose woods?
Beside the trail, about 10 feet away, is another path, one that follows the natural terrain of the land. Instead of cutting through, as they did to make the railroad tracks that later became my trail, this path rides on the surface, hilly and dippy with undulating valleys and steep climbs – sometimes rising into short bluffs that overlook the trail, sometimes going low into a marsh or alongside a wetland. This path is used by horseback riders and a few vigorous cyclists with fat wheel bikes.
Six glorious inches of snow came and went, so I strapped on my snowshoes, took the horse path and did a little off roading.
“Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.
Robert Frost
Following a deer trail I tramped through still channels in the woodland taking in the muffled quiet of the fresh snowblanket until I was quite sure I had crossed into private property.
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