Change Is Hard

I went for an inland walk today, away from the mesmerizing lake into the sunlit woods looking for a bit of stillness.  And of course photo opportunities.  There were signs of spring everywhere, even way up here.  I was surprised to realize the pussy willows are blooming already.  The sun was shining, there was a light breeze.  It was good to be outside after the past couple of cold windy days.

There was a  faint smell of wood smoke hanging in the air which took me back to another life in another place where people heat with wood and life was simple.  Funny how you look back at times in your life with nostalgia, refusing to remember the whole picture, like the 6 foot snowdrifts and the often lonely isolation.  You remember instead the beauty of Lake Superior, the rolling mountains, the moose glimpsed from the highway.

So today I notice the robin eating last years wild grapes high in a tree, the way sun glints off of white birch, the fat chickadee swooping past.

There’s a land preserve down the road and I ventured in to see what was there.  When I was a kid we used to play in the woods all the time, and this felt a bit like home to me.  I found lots of signs of the impending spring, there was green everywhere. 

I sat on a log, trying to be quiet – trying to find the stillness inside of me.  The log was cold.  And bumpy.  I put my gloves under me for padding and tried again to find the stillness inside.  It’s been a long time since I’ve been in the woods and quiet on my own.   It took a bit of time to settle in.  Such quiet.  I thought that I could still hear the lake which made no sense as it was quiet this morning.  Then I realized I was hearing the bit of breeze blowing through millions of tree tops.  It quietly rustled the dry leaves on the forest floor, and occasionally rattled last year’s dogwood leaves still on their branches.  A squirrel chattered for a moment somewhere. Far away a bird drummed.  Nearby a  bluejay screamed.  Then relative silence. 

Yet I couldn’t get my mind to settle down, to empty.  Everywhere I saw photographs, shapes and color, texture and light.  So tempting to get up and tramp around making noise, interrupting the natural way of things.

So I sat.  “This is what the forest sounds like when I’m not here,” I thought.  How interesting.  How wonderful.  How peaceful.  And so I sat some more.  Finally my mind emptied and I just enjoyed.   And then I wandered back.

And on the way I wondered about the young man whose parents fought to keep this land preserved in his name.  He must have been pretty special.