I’m surrounded by hiking trails. In fact, there’s one right behind where I live. I often hear footsteps in the late afternoon or voices from the hikers taking the shady pathway.
From my place, it’s an upward walk. It’s one of the stretches where I collect rose petals in spring. Now I’m waiting for the fireweed that blooms in summer and grows profusely higher up along the trail. These flowers are great additives to tea.
As I keep heading up, I run into two children picking salmon berries. They race off on their bikes when they see me. I’m guessing they should be at school.
I’m on my way to the pedestrian walkway that marks the end of my hike although it’s not to the top of the mountain or the beginning of the creek.