The winter forest does not offer the attractive wildflowers of early spring, the fragrant humidity of a summer morning or the brilliant foliage of glorious October. Neither does it promise the explosion of life encountered during the warmer months: those colorful birds, agile lizards, slithering snakes and buzzing insects. But the winter forest harbors its own gifts.
First and foremost is the silence, broken only by the distant call of jays, the drumming of woodpeckers and the twittering of songbird groups as they roam through the woodland. Then there is that fresh, invigorating air, often scented by woodsmoke from a nearby farmhouse; unlike the shaded summer woods, the barren forest welcomes the sun and long shadows stretch across its leaf-covered floor. Hiking along its frozen trails or trudging through its crunchy snow, the naturalist hopes to spot an owl on its daytime roost; perhaps a saw-whet owl in the cedars or a screech owl peering from a tree cavity.
Above all else, the winter forest offers solitude, an escape from the turmoil of human society and a chance to meet nature on her own terms. If prepared with warm, layered clothing and good hiking boots, those who venture into the winter woods soon experience the many benefits to both body and soul.
