On this autumn Sapsucker Woods afternoon, the world seems crafted to soothe. Sunlight filters through the canopy, setting leaves ablaze in rich reds, golden yellows, and softened greens, the seasonal palette reflecting nature’s grand finale. Today, the woods are a sanctuary for healing, a space where steps are measured not by speed but by strength, each one a testament to resilience.
Pam stands before the wide, outstretched wings painted on the wall at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, wings so vast that they dwarf her. She smiles, resting against her hiking poles, the Condor wings an emblem of a journey toward reclaiming freedom. Her recent hip replacement surgery has given her back this independence, a reminder that recovery is not just about physical mending, but about lifting the spirit to soar once again.
The trail unfolds gently, bordered by cattails and still waters that mirror the sky—a bright blue canvas mottled with soft clouds drifting in and out of the reflections. Fallen leaves float upon the pond’s surface, creating patches of color that seem suspended between water and sky. Nearby, lily pads, green stepping stones over shadowed depths, their edges lit by glittering sunlight. Geese glide by, unbothered, embodying a calm flowing outward, wrapping the whole scene in peace.
Each step Pam takes is deliberate, accompanied by the steady rhythm of her poles striking the ground. It is the kind of walk that invites contemplation, where time slows, and even the smallest detail—a single yellow leaf spiraling down, a ripple breaking the pond’s surface—feels like an invitation to pause and breathe. She moves from the open path toward a shaded arbor, draped with twisting vines. The vines climb upward, winding around the wooden beams, their leaves creating a soft veil that frames her view of the water beyond. Through this leafy curtain, she gazes upon the pond, where autumn’s reflection glows, offering a quiet moment of solitude, of healing drawn from nature’s persistence.
Just beyond, a bare tree stands, its trunk hollowed by years, its exposed wood testament to the life that has passed through it. In its decay, it offers a home to the creatures of the marsh, a structure among reeds and grasses that sway with the wind. The tree reminds Pam of her own journey, how resilience is often found in adapting, in letting time and life shape you.
At last, we reach a bench overlooking the pond, a perfect place to rest and reflect. She settles in, feeling the quiet thrill of accomplishment. The woods are still, save for the sound of a breeze rustling the reeds and the occasional bird song piercing the silence. In this moment, with the vast sky overhead and the world reflected below, she feels a profound sense of gratitude—not only for the beauty around her but for the strength within her. Sapsucker Woods are a personal cathedral, a space where nature and recovery intertwine, offering peace in every step, in every breath.
Michael Stephen Wills Photography 