Mud is always a good omen. And as I step off the main gravel stone dusted path better known as the Upper Charles Rail Trail in Holliston, mud is what I’ve got. It’s not hazardous or impossible to navigate just awkward, kinda like ice skating on a slushy pond or walking on chocolate pudding.

As I’ve done a thousand times before, I’m out walking the rail trail on a glorious Spring day under a bed of sunshine with welcoming, warm temperatures. I’m on the east end of the trail between Blair Square and the Bogastow Viaduct multi-arch bridge behind Holliston Oil Service staring at the mud and wondering which way to go . There’s an inviting path marked with a bent and arched tree that almost forms a sort of botanical rainbow. Beneath that arch, in the mud, are some bike tracks and a series of small logs placed in the ground to help hikers navigate the trail. I move forward across the logs and under the tree arch stepping slowly but intently walking sorta to my right along a clearly marked trail. As I do, the main Upper Charles Rail Trail slowly disappears behind me until it’s finally out of sight. I’m now solidly in the forest with no signs of civilization. And, yes, I know it’s not like being stranded on a deserted island or lost in Alaska but it’s still unnerving. Well at least the quiet is unnerving for me.

I continue walking and as I do critters of all sorts leap from the path sides and into smaller pools of water. It’s mostly turtles and frogs making the jump although I do spy one larger, thicker racer-snake move away from the walking path and quickly into the water. Last year when I made this same hike, I came across a black racer-snake coiled on a group of rocks in the sunshine. I suppose even reptiles like snakes enjoy a good suntan. Wait, are snakes reptiles? Someone please get back to me on that.

Still moving onward now I come to a large body of water that leads to a man-made concrete spillway that aims to funnel and direct the water down a stone embankment. Only problem is the spillway is clogged with sticks, leaves and pine needles so the water is flowing over and around the spillway. It’s not impossible to cross and really only requires some careful footing. And so I do moving cautiously to avoid falling.

More steps forward into the forest and I come to a thin path that runs adjacent to another body of water surrounded on all sides by trees. It’s beautiful and quiet. I stop and listen hearing only the sounds of nature buzzing around me while a small eddy forms in the water before me. Moments later a beaver kit emerges. I watch for a brief moment until our eyes meet and she disappears below the water line recalling a discussion with some local town folks regarding the beaver population in Holliston. “Naw they’ve all been eradicated”, everyone said. Obviously not.

And then I recalled another conversation I had with another local who said “Mother Nature always wins”. And yes, she does.