Dear Editor,

I have taken up walking as a means of exercise. This morning was the earliest I have gone walking down at Lake Jackson. I finally made my lazy self get up and out the door earlier (It is my firm belief, if the Good Lord had wanted me to get up by dawn’s early light, then he would have made me into a rooster.) I was there at a little after 8, simply because all the signs says “open from 8 a.m. to sunset.” I did not want to get in trouble for venturing there any earlier.

It was cloudy, but the kind of cloudy you know is fog and will burn away soon. There was a delicious, wafting breeze from off the lake, with just enough moisture to dampen down the pollen, so I could walk and breath at the same time. This time, for the first time, I did not put the headphones on and walk to music. The sound of so many birds was surprising, and quite wonderful. Different birds each singing their own song, but it all blending into the sweetest melody. I saw two cranes today, one lifting off as I walked by and the other, calm and composed, surveying the expanse across the water. The sounds of cars simply slipped away as I actually looked and listened to the serene beauty we are privileged to live near.

I met a few people, other walkers and some walking their dogs. It was a camaraderie of sorts, a smile, a nod and then each continuing on, friendly people in a friendly place. I go as far as the camp area and about face, walking back over the beautifully-weathered bridge, my footfalls muffled by the pollen and a few leaves. Cypress trees, tall and majestic overhead, draped in a lacy mantle of Spanish moss, the new leaves gleaming in the sunlight. Small orange trumpet flowers drifted onto the bridge, but for the life of me, I couldn’t find where they were coming from. I would love to know what they are and have some planted in my back garden. It was the warmer by the time I came back around but I always save the best for last. I crossed past where I park by the airplane and go to the wetlands, circling through the walkways there. Some days, it is hot and steamy, but today it was so perfect, the silky breeze still gently coming through the trees and marsh plants, different scents of fresh, green things welcoming the spring and renewal.

I walked out onto the small gazebo, the one right out over the water. There was only one boat on the lake, so the water was still and glittered like diamonds as the sun started peeking out from the clouds. The only moment to dim the day was seeing beer cans in the shallow water. It is a sad, sorry state of affairs, when some uncivilized cretins would throw trash in the water at the Wetlands area. This area was built to show how delicate the balance is within nature. Yet, there are those so selfish, so self-centered, that spoiling this magical place means nothing to them. My advice to them, stay at home, foul your own nest, leave the beauty pristine for the rest of us to enjoy. My mood was rather spoiled until I walked back toward my car and then, just at the right moment, as if on cue, the birds began to sing, the sun came out and the Lake sparkled. This area is a gift and like all good gifts should be treasured and taken care of.

Marsha Phillips

Lockhart