Back Into The Woods

"If you don’t go out in the woods 

nothing will ever happen 

and your life will never begin." 

- Clarissa Pinkola Estes

All house and no woods makes Gregg a dull boy. 

After weeks of weather conditions not conducive to hiking, or snowshoeing, I decided to just get out there. I needed a good dose of nature or I was going to lose my mind. 

There was a skiff of fresh snow on the ground, but not enough to support snowshoes, so I put on my hiking boots and fired myself out the back door, across the field, and entered my sacred space - The Woods.

As usual, it was perfection. 

I always hike with walking poles, so didn't have to worry about my footing. I followed a flagged property line down the valley to the brook at the bottom. When I got there, it felt like visiting an old friend's house; somewhere I was welcome and supported.

The brook, which I have visited in all seasons many times over the past 4 years since arriving here from our previous home on the west coast, was higher, louder, and flowing faster than I have ever seen before. 

We have had several gnarly storms recently, and the weather has been mild enough for rain as well as snow melt. I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if I fell into the brook. 

Is that too morbid?

I don't know if it was morbid, but it was deliciously scary, and I was totally transfixed on the speeding liquid below me.

Would I live long enough in the quick, cold water to float all the way down to the ocean, 5 km downstream? Probably not. Brrr. Ok, that IS morbid.

I shivered just thinking about such an icy immersion, and stepped carefully as I hiked along the bank. I thought of Linda, home alone and waiting for my return, and longed to back with her in our warm house, sharing pictures and stories.

If I don't go back into the woods, my life may never begin, but if I do go into the woods, my life may end. 

Nature can nullify as likely as it can nurture, and I find that vital and exciting. I don't worry too much about it, because I know that if you treat nature with respect and care, everything will be alright. 

And on this particular hike, everything was.

I got home, and Linda's smile said it all. Her dull boy was gone, and a fully refreshed version stood before her, safe and sound.

“There are some things you learn best in calm, and some in storm.” 

- Willa Cather