I won't yammer on like some early American naturalist or transcendentalist writer, extolling the virtues of "returning to nature" or studying oneself in relation to an environment. But there's always a reward for exploring forests and woodlands to me, especially in the beginning of the summer.

What one assumes may be quiet--or absent the clamoring and bumbling of human commotion--ends up a chirping, singing, croaking melody (or dissonance to the grumpy).

A few snaps from my walks today: