Peggy and I always stop to admire the Applegate River. Here it reflects the afternoon sky and trees along our mailbox walk.
It’s a new year– a time for resolutions, a time for planning. Right? I mean, right! My laptop is poised and ready for action. But wait, my mind isn’t here. It’s outside wandering around in the woods with the deer and squirrels and foxes and bears.
Why should this be so tough? I love planning. I’ve been doing it forever. I still have plans I developed in high school bouncing around somewhere. I was doing MBO before Peter Drucker invented it. I have plans on top of plans. If I don’t control me, no one will. Or worse, someone else might.
But today, this third day of 2014, my mind just isn’t into planning. Fortunately, I am even better at rationalizing than I am at planning. One of my resolutions is more exercise. Isn’t it everybody’s? It’s on my list every year, regardless of the results. So I will go exercise. I’ll be resolute instead of wishy-washy. I will walk to our mailbox.
Join me as I take a walk on the wild side.
We will start our trip to the mail box following Cody’s Bear Trail. Each of our grandchildren (5 boys) has his own trail. Cody’s happens to be the trail the bear follows when it comes to visit.Last time Bear came by, he tipped over my grill.
The five-year old Cody and I could have named it Deer Trail, instead. (It’s more like a deer freeway.) But that lacks the pizzaz of Bear Trail.
Coming off Cody’s Trail, I smelled a skunk. Was our culvert occupied again? Last summer, I had to replace the culvert. My 76-year-old friend Tuffy was removing the last few feet of the old culvert with a backhoe, when the fattest skunk I have ever seen came waddling out and disappeared into the blackberries where the foxes live…
I got down on my knees and looked into the culvert. I wanted a skunk photo for this blog. Peggy hates it when I poke my head into the pipe; she’s afraid I’ll be sprayed and she’ll have to live with me. No worry, the culvert was empty.
Looking back down the road past the culvert toward our house. I would have followed the road if I hadn’t used Cody’s trail.
Ten members of the local Blacktail deer herd were present, however. They were curious about whether Peggy had left them any apples. I caught four of the deer in various poses.
One doe had an irresistible itch on her belly.
Now I am faced with another choice. Do I walk up the neighborhood road past our fence, or do I cut through the woods?
My preference is always for the woods. Klamath National Forest provides our back property line.
So I head up the trail past the Hobbit Tree.
And past the Ponderosa Pines…
Just “me and my shadow strolling up the avenue.”
There is a small knoll at the top of the mailbox walk where I can look south toward the Red Buttes (looking quite blue) in California.
Now it’s time we leave the woods and rejoin the neighborhood road.
A week ago this road was a sheet of ice.
And the goal! Our mailbox is on the right just across the Upper Applegate Road.
My reward– a new Scientific American. “Our Unconscious Mind, It exerts a profound influence: Shaping decisions, molding behavior, and running our lives.” Hmmm.
NEXT BLOG: We walk along the beautiful Applegate River, meet the neighborhood dogs, and follow Ethan’s Hidden Trail as we return to our home from the mailbox walk.
Wandering through Time and Place 
Maybe your unconscious mind is saying, “I’ve made enough plans through the years. Now I want to enjoy the trails to the mailbox.”
Could be… but then my mind has always been distracted by an opportunity to disappear into the woods. 🙂 –Curt
The best throwaway line of 2014, so far – “Klamath National Forest provides our back property line.” I don’t know whether to be jealous, covetous, or start planning a visit. I suppose I could varnish your mailbox. 😉
Seriously – what a beautiful place. Going off to travel must be even better when you’ve got something equally entrancing to return to.
Start planning a visit. 🙂 Peggy and I are quite lucky. We spent a year in the area before we found our little bit of Shangri-La. –Curt
Well i shall not be showing you the walk to my mailbox anytime soon.. you may weep from pity for me.. Seriously, what absolutely gorgeous surroundings you and Peggy reside in.. truly blessed my friend..
Thanks Lynne, and we are truly blessed. –Curt
Beautiful, absolutely beautiful neighborhood. And you grace it splendidly. Thanks for the walking tour.
We are half way there, Bruce. Now I have to get home. 🙂 –Curt
I really felt I had taken the walk – that’s my exercise for the day! Love the Hobbit tree. One of my current books is John Duncan’s How Intelligence Happens, and Daniel’s Bor’s book, The Ravenous Brain, was a winner a year or so ago. These two guys are both at the sharp end of research into brain function, if that interests you.
The mind is fascinating. I’ll check out the books. –Curt
The most splendid mailbox walk we can imagine! Do keep your head out of that culvert – Peggy doesn’t need that aroma in her life. Curious to see the return journey and if it can better this.
I think its a match. BTW, I saw the skunk last night. He is a big, magnificent creature for a skunk. Now he is living in the culvert down on the front of our property. He wanted to live under our house but I discouraged him. 🙂 Curt
Gorgeous scenery! What a great walk. My trip to the mailbox takes 10 seconds!
Did not know you lived in Oregon. My hubby is from the northeastern part of the state.
Born here, moved away at about one year old, and then came back three years ago. Interestingly, Peggy and I came through here doing genealogical research. I have grandparents, great grandparents, and great-great grand parents buried in the area. We fell in love with Southern oregon and then spent a year finding our “perfect” place. –Curt
Whoever thought our mailbox walk would become a favorite hiking destination! Grin! I do love it, always a surprise along the way each time we walk it. Once I spotted a grey coyote, uncommon in our area….thought it was the wolf that has been wandering N. CA and our part of OR. Peggy
That poor lone wolf, BTW, has travelled thousands of miles back and forth across Oregon and California seeking love. –Curt