My Outside Magic

A few weeks ago over spring break, I had the opportunity to spend a weekend in central Georgia. Before this trip I had rarely ever visited this part of the country, and was amazed by the beauty of the lakes and pine forests. During this weekend, I decided to go on a nice walk that weaved in and out of the woods along a golf course. The walk began with a pine-lined path through the woods. While I’m sure this path would feel mundane to a native Georgian, it felt fairly foreign to me. The pine trees reached nearly a hundred feet into the sky overhead and the ground seemed to be blanketed in a layer of rust as the pine needles created an almost slippery layer of cushion underfoot. A mile or so in, I could hear the trickle of stream that had dug its way through the forest and into the golf course. As the thick woods gave way to the expanse of a fairway, I could finally see hundreds of yards in front of me. While the zoysia grass wasn’t native to Georgia its pale green created a beautiful contrast to the dark forest green that lined each hole. My eyes followed the stream that wiggled its way through the fairway, past the green, and beyond before diving back below the wall of pine that made up the horizon. Another mile up, when the path reunited with a calm pooling area of the stream, I looked down and saw dozens of dark shapes moving along the creek bed. It took me a minute to realize that these were the most massive tadpoles I had ever soon. Their grey-brown bulbous body and long tail stretched what seemed to be over three inches long, with their body the size of a golf ball. Further along, I noticed a pack of vultures circling overhead, likely marking the death of some animal nearby. By the end of the six and a half mile stroll, I had grown to appreciate not only the natural beauty of Georgia, but the natural diversity we have throughout the US.