Increasing wonder

"Wonder increases as speed decreases." 

-- David Haskell, lecturing at Owl's Hill Nature Center, July 22, 2012.

This is exactly what I have been noticing during my time in the woods. I have been walking more slowing, stopping more frequently, and looking more closely. As result, the forest is regularly filling me with a sense of awe.

Gone reading

This week I have been busy reading and thinking through David Haskell's delightful book, The Forest Unseen: A Year's Watch in Nature. The book was born out of a year spent watching a one-square-meter section of the forest floor not far from his classroom at the University of the South in Sewanee, Tennessee. Combining focused observation with poetic description and scientific details, Haskell tells the stories of the ecology and natural history of old-growth forest on the Cumberland Plateau in Tennessee.

I am so excited about this book! Haskell's style and focus is exactly the kind of thing I'm trying to do with my time in our woods. Even better was that just a couple of days after I discovered the book, I was able to hear Dr. Haskell speak as a guest author at Owl's Hill Nature Sanctuary. I expect to give a complete review and praise in a future post, so stay tuned. In the mean time, you may want to check out Haskell's own blog, which he calls Ramble.

Vanishing turkeys

Turkeys in the side yard,
heads bobbing as they walk
into the woods
and vanish.

Quiet contemplation

On a quiet and peaceful morning, freshly brewed coffee in hand, I walk silently up the hill behind the house. Counting my blessings of family and circumstance, calm serenity surrounds my walk. In moccasins I can feel the details of the soft trail: a stick here, a sweet gum ball there, moist earth releasing the earthy smells of mushroom and mineral.

I am walking to log bench beneath a large beech up on the ridge. The bench was formed just the other day when a large branch broke out of the beech in a storm. I thought of moving it aside to clear the trail when I first discovered it had fallen, but something urged me to resist the urge and I let it remain where it had come to rest. With a fortuitous crook downward where it crossed the trail, the limb was easy enough to step over and it just seemed right to leave it. This morning as I wandered away from the house, it struck me that this log would be a convenient place to sit and think.

A steady stream of thoughts flow through my mind. Hannah's 19th birthday was yesterday, and I am still thinking what a blessing and manifestation of God's grace she is to our family. In the house below, all is quiet. I think that very few men are as blessed as I am. I have an amazing wife and two wonderful children. Beyond that, we get to live here, in the woods of an unnamed hollow in the hills of Tennessee. We don't have much, but we have more than everything we need.

Today is the 97th anniversary of the Order of the Arrow, a service and honor society in the Boy Scouts of America. I am thinking what a blessing it is to be involved in such a great and noble cause. Cheerful service to others is one of the hallmarks of Scouting, and it feels good to be a part of it.

Too soon my coffee cup is empty and I need to get dinner on the stove. Along with a few vegetables from the garden, we're having pinto beans and rice tonight. It may be a simple meal, but just the thought of it makes me feel warm and cared for.

The air is comfortable now, but it is warming quickly and it will feel too hot and too humid before noon. As I walk back down the trail, I stop to look again at a small owl feather that I noticed on the way out. The striped brown and white feather is beautiful and delicate. It is a sign of other creatures who appreciate these forests. I think to carry the feather home where I can prolong my enjoyment and share it, but I stop and leave it alone. Its beauty here in this moment is enough, a witness and testimony to simple pleasures and graces.