Thursday, October 24, 2024

We went to the other side of the mountain today, the dingo and I. A space that has been a constant source of grounding, adventure and fulfillment for the past 20 years of my life. It was warm with that angled light that makes each moment of the day feel like the golden hour.  We had a little morning picnic of cold roast beef and cheddar cheese sitting on a hillside of a long-gone homestead. Every time I’m there I sit wondering just what it looked and felt like when men worked the fields and women tended the gardens and kitchen and the children. When the children ran the hills and the woods. If I ever wanted a superpower, today it would be time travel. To venture back to the time this family worked this land high in the hills in a town that still 2 centuries later doesn’t have a store.

Where did they go for provisions?  Where was the garden? Who were Thomas and William who lie still on that hillside? As I sit in almost utter silence besides the cardinal who peeps at and watches me and the crow far in the distance signaling my presence, I want desperately to know the sounds that once were.

As we sat lingering in the silence a giant racket came from the distance. A deep bellow. Then another. And then a constant jangle of a low bell. Sigh. People. They have a way of seeing nothing but themselves and caring little for the wake they leave. We quickly moved on. But wouldn’t you know, the bellows and bells grew closer. And they persisted. Before we knew it the chaos was upon us. A man and woman in bright hats and 2 standard poodles were closing in fast with an energy that belied the space we were in. We had no choice but to pull to the side and let them pass. I fear all my spaces have become overrun. It’s not that I dislike all of humanity or don’t feel I should share these spaces. Quite the contrary. I am fully grateful that I and everyone are granted such incredible places. I just use them with reverence and in turn offer those who may be in the area the type of quiet solitude one should expect in the woods. I stopped hiking regular trail long ago for the very reason that the people who were also on those trails were noisy and loud and ultimately disrespectful by just the amount of noise pollution they didn’t seem to care they made.

But we pulled over, they passed, we wandered a little longer off trail and redeemed a bit of the experience. We may have to get an earlier start.

Wednesday, October 23, 2024

Today I went to the woods. In that slow wander in the deep woods, far off trail sort of way. It was remarkable. And as it does each time I find myself away, I found myself wondering why I ever find reason to stay away. The lesson I learn over and over is how easily we can allow things to get in the way and just how important the deep, untouched spaces free of humanity are to all that I am. All those years of teaching ‘be the best version of yourself’, being the best version of myself absolutely must include long wanders in the deep woods far from trails.

The remote pond was about 2 feet lower than normal summer levels. There were no eagles as I’ve become used to seeing. The colors were magnificent. The day very warm. The porcupine who always greeted me were no where in sight. Much has changed this year.

The dingo and I ventured to spaces we had never been. A beautiful hardwood forest in a valley full of recent blowdowns. A space that clearly sees hard winds. A space that seems heaven in summer, but would prove harsh and fierce in winter storms.

We encountered a woman walking 2 intense, apparently unstable dogs near the parking area. She wasn’t the least bit friendly as well. You can always tell who the walker is by the energy of their dogs. As beautiful as it was we may choose different spaces with less chance of encounters.