Order vs Disorder
“.I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.” -- John Burroughs
One of the nice things about spring-time in the northeast is going for walks. At my extreme age, I don’t get around as well in the snow and ice, and so I’ve been making up for being inside too much during the long winter months. My favorite places to walk tend to be around my own property, and along three trails in particular: one is a long-abandoned turnpike; the second is the bed of a railroad that closed in 1957; and, third, a beautiful creek that crossed each of the first two.
This week, I’ve left the “comfort zone” of my own neck of the woods a couple of times. A bank, a doctor’s office, a drug store, a library, a garage, the Post Office, a grocery store, and then, last, to a school to give a presentation. Add to that a trip to the Canadian border, to pick up my daughter from college.
Although I am prone to enjoying solitude, I do enjoy people. In the bank, a pleasant woman approached me and said that, with my long hair and beard, I reminded her of the Founding Fathers. I thanked her, though I can’t recall any of those fellows having long hair nor beards. Another woman, who I went to school with, saw me and said, “Ah, our eccentric hermit; what brings you to civilization?” I explained that I had actually left civilization to come to a community of human beings.
I’ve also had a virtual flood of phone calls and e-mails this week. Extended family and friends, several with news about people I know who are ill; a couple of invitations to speak here and there this summer; a few asking advice on political matters; and a close friend who is feeling detached and burned out. She has stopped by the house a couple of times this week to see my daughter, who is back from college. They are in an acoustic group together.
The library where this friend works part-time -- she’s a full-time teacher -- has asked me to do a display of artifacts that document local Native American history there. I’ll be presenting a program to the public there in June, then in another city in July. In coming up with a mental outline, I found it worthwhile to take a walk along the banks of the Susquehanna and Unadilla Rivers, visiting ancient occupation sites, as well as an expansive camp where Mohawk leader Joseph Brant had warriors during the Revolutionary War. Letters to General George Washington from that time tell of a significant number of “rascally escaped slaves” who had joined the Indians there.
This is the land where I spent my childhood. Across the river is the old house where the grandson of Seneca historian David Cusick lived; we remained friends over the decades, after we had both moved away from that rural neighborhood. I end up stopping to see my childhood “best friend,” who recently bought his grandfather’s farm. We talk about the various people who lived on this rural road, and influenced our childhood. They are all long gone now. My buddy says, “How did we end up as Elders so quickly?”
When I get home, I decide to cook the evening meal out at the fire pit out at my pond. As always, I start by feeding the fish, and refilling the bird-feeders. My daughter and friend come out, and we enjoy watching the birds, and listening to their songs. One of my favorite things is when these two play guitars and sing. I know that human beings have sat around a fire, and sang, for thousands and thousands of years. It’s as much a part of “nature” as the birds’ singing their songs.
We all get a turn here on Earth. People tend to measure their turn in terms of how many times this living planet goes around the sun. For some, it’s quite a few circles around that life-giving sun; for others, it’s a shorter ride.
Before I know it, I’m alone at the pond. The sun has gone down, and the fire is giving off the only light. Most of the birds have called it a day, and now it’s the frogs’ turn to sing their songs. As it grows dark, I can see the reflection of the fire on the pond’s surface. In time, the fire burns out, and I begin my walk back to my house.
It’s a busy time in our society. The combination of a larger population and technological advances has created a new speed of daily life for most people. While the planet continues to move at its own pace, the world is spinning faster and faster. Everyone should be taking time to “turn off your mind, relax, and float downstream,” as John Lennon sang. Especially those who are feeling frazzled by all the pressures of everyday life.
Spending time in nature is what I do. How about you? What helps put your senses in order?
Peace,
H2O Man
= new reply since forum marked as read
I can picture what you described - as a native New Englander, I got to spend 4 years in New Hampshire, and spent time in Vermont as well. Just great memories..
Pretty fortunate here (knock on wood) - one daughter in Seattle, the other nearby - but both independent, on their own, and doing fine. My wife spend the day making Tshirt and memory quilts, me selling veggie seedlings, planting and tending my garden, and writing. After paying my corporate dues (25 years...glad it is behind me), life is much slower paced for both my wife and I now - most of it spent outdoors when possible, with the music of the bird songs....I find myself spending far less time on the laptop or indoors between spring and early winter...it is wonderful "out there" (at least until the extremely hot and muggies hit Raleigh!).
PS - the older I get, the less "it" all makes sense....the politics, fights, squabbles, injustices - just a mass of inconsistencies. It is all hard to stomach...hence my wife and I enjoying as much as we can our relatively peaceful "bubble".....
