Subtitle: Never Underestimate Your Own Back Yard.
We live in a very suburban residential area. You have to drive through five minutes of nothing but neighborhood to arrive at our house from the main road, and there’s not much space within all that that isn’t occupied by houses, front yards, or back yards.
However, we’d heard that at the end of our street, there was a secret trail into some rare woods. In the two and a half years that we’ve lived here, we’d never attempted to find or explore this trail, but we decided it was high time to put on our Dora Shoes and go exploring.
We set off on one of our evening-Daddy’s-home-and-we-all-need-a-change-of-pace walks.
It’s hard not to read with a British Accent when you encounter a sentence with the word “Rubbish” in it.
As soon as we stepped foot onto the trail, we heard water running. We knew adventure was afoot. We crossed Christmas Tree Curve:
We beat back bushes, jumped over a humongous downed tree, and within no time, found this glorious sight:
(Notice the dots of reflection in the picture – that would be pollen. It was, after all, still pollen week.)
Ali and I immediately made our way out into the middle of the stream and sat down:
While Chris went to explore upstream:
Ali, however, was not impressed. Being the worry-wart that she is, she started moaning anytime he would walk on the rocks and and would repeat under her breath, “Be careful, Daddy…don’t fall!”
Which was quite fitting, since she gets all of her paranoia from her Daddy.
On the way back, we photographed the big log we had to climb over:
…but really, his look kinda went with the whole theme of “Rubbish Trail”.