A summer morning in the woods, seen a little differently.
Walk in My Woods is my ongoing series about life on our Rhode Island property, the changing seasons, wildlife, and the quiet moments that shape how I see the world.
A few weeks ago, we invited a forester to visit our property. Before we bought the land, a detailed forest management plan had been created, but reading a report and walking the woods with someone who knows what they’re seeing are two very different experiences.
We spent a few hours talking about the property, then took a walk through a small portion of the woods together. Every so often he’d stop, point to something I had passed dozens of times, and explain what I was looking at. Trees that all looked similar to me suddenly had names, histories, and roles within the forest.
One lesson has stayed with me.
As we walked, we came across a few tiny oak saplings, no taller than a foot. He explained that young oaks often don’t make it because deer browse them before they have a chance to grow. His suggestion was simple. Place a small protective cage around the healthiest saplings and give them a chance.
Before that afternoon, I would have walked right past those little trees without a second thought.
Now I stop.
I notice them.
It’s remarkable how quickly your perspective changes once someone teaches you what you’re looking at.
That idea has stayed with me. We spend so much of our lives focused on the things that are obvious, while the future often depends on the small things that are easy to overlook.
A tiny oak sapling.
A quiet conversation.
A simple question.
Each has the potential to grow into something much larger than it first appears.
I’m looking forward to spending more time learning about our woods. Not because I expect to become an expert, but because I’m discovering there’s always more to see when you slow down and pay attention.
I've spent part of this summer thinking about all the things I haven't been doing in our woods. Maybe I should spend a little more time appreciating everything that's been happening without me.
The trails will get cleared. The firewood will get cut. The weeds will get pulled.
But none of it has to happen today.
For now, there are still a few weeks of summer left.
And some places worth going.
Originally shared in the August 25, 2026 Indermaur Media newsletter.
