The most obvious transformation after 4 weeks on the trail is that I have lost more than 10 extraneous pounds. The more profound transformations have come through highly-tuned senses.

The feeling through the bottom of your boot that the muddy trail is about to give way, and you had better slow it down or risk a face plant.

The exquisite taste of a piece of fresh fruit after several days of trail food.

The aroma which heralds a patch of Mountain Laurel or Rhododendron long before you see it.

The tones of dozens of shades of green which you had never noticed before.

Yet by far, the greatest enhancement comes in your hearing. What was once a mere rustle in the leaves is now instantly processed. As a quietly foraging Junco, or Chipmunk unobtrusively keeping its distance. At the louder end, as a Red Squirrel diving for cover or a Towhee flipping over leaf litter in search of a meal.

The enhanced hearing is even more critical as a way of nature telling you that you are NOT welcome. It can be as simple as a pair of Juncos insisting that you move along when the trail takes you close to their nest. The warning of a bumblebee to stay away while it forages at its prize Rhododendron is of course rather more serious. The Timber Rattler is merely telling you to steer clear or face potentially deadly consequences!

These warnings are comic on occasion, such as when this lady burst, squawking, out onto the trail behind me. Her mood did not improve, but she was at least momentarily photogenic.