Convalescing in My Home Woods

Good grief we’ve been sick.

I’ll have an hour here or there when I feel better, which, you know, gets a person through. Tracy, though.

Yesterday, he declared he was going to make lunch (something he does for us every day but hasn’t in more than a week), but when I go inside to check on him, he’s in bed, like under-the-covers in bed, with his clothes on and his eyeglasses all cockeyed, sleeping between coughing fits. The man cannot catch a break.

Which has left me in charge of the campsite for this week, and I couldn’t have picked a nicer one to convalesce in.

We’re in Pocahontas State Park, in the Southside, as we Richmonders call this area. Or, maybe used to, I dunno; I haven’t lived near here since I was a kid. Lots has changed with urban sprawl, especially the West End, but the forests are as familiar as they were in my childhood.

Our campsite is gigantic and fully in the woods, and the weather has been perfect, so Banjo and I have been lying around in our spot of sun. All around me are the songbirds I know from my mom calling out their names: phoebes, warblers, goldfinches, blue birds.

I can see that the giant holly trees are sprouting soft, green leaves among last year’s spiky, brittle ones. I used to run barefoot over these same prickly leaves to greet my daddy when his truck pulled in at the end of the day.

The spindly dogwoods in the forest are my favorite. Who needs those planted ones in yards when these delicate-looking wild ones manage to bloom underneath hardwoods?

Our private campsite in the woods and this fabulously warm weather have both coincided with the fact that my knee is cleared for off-pavement walking and dog walking as of this exact week. So, while Tracy has slept, I’ve taken Banjo through the woods and into a nearby field, where we watch deer graze and Banjo tries to pounce on small critters burrowing through the grass.

Mostly, though, we’ve been lying around, convalescing, day after day.

Today I tested negative, and Tracy is indeed upright and making lunch, so we might just feel well enough to travel, on schedule, in two days.

(I was tempted to post pictures of my forest tattoos, since they’re so much like what I’ve been seeing this week, but turns out I did that almost four years ago to the day: Where my tattoos meet their inspirations.)