My destination was a simple gray bench set atop an old sand dune alongside a nature trail in Anastasia State Park. When I had hiked by the bench it struck me as a good location for a sit spot. It was convenient, only a five minute walk from my campsite, and the top of the dune provided a good vantage point to gaze into the maritime forest overstory and understory. And perhaps most importantly, the bench had a good feel…
Prologue Michael 5:00 am I woke at 5:00 a.m. to prepare for a shared sit spot with John. We planned to meet up at 6:30 and walk to the location we had scouted out a month before. I began my early morning routine by stoking the wood stove, dressing, feeding Jean-Luc (my cat), making coffee, and snacking on a little yogurt with granola. I gathered what I needed per John’s suggestions; notebook, pencils (a pen might freeze, John told me),…
The first reason to return and complete the climb to the Haw Creek Overlook was a straightforward issue of unfinished business. A few days earlier my wife and I had made it half way up, but simply ran out of time. I was left with the feeling of a job half done, a mission uncompleted. And I could feel the pull of those compelling elements of a climb; the pursuit of goal, and the physical, emotional, even spiritual challenge of…
A Wakeup Call Tchack, Tchack, Tchack. A mockingbird’s morning salutation carried through the dim pre-dawn light ending the nighttime silence. I smiled as I walked down the three flights of outdoor steps at my timeshare in Atlantic Beach, NC. Mockingbirds, feisty, busy, birds who like a high open perch, are always the first to vocalize in the morning, almost as if it was their job to broadcast a wakeup call to all the other birds and to the wider world….
Four hundred miles to the north hurricane Zeta churned out to sea. In Beaufort, NC the remnants of Zeta’s outer wall ripped 50 mile per hour wind gusts of down the narrow channel of Taylor’s Creek. Given the additional pull of a strong tidal current I wasn’t sure if it would be safe to paddle my kayak across the creek to the landing for the Carrot Island Boardwalk in the Rachel Carson Reserve, my destination for sit spot. The reserve…
When we are very still, when we truly calm the seas of our thoughts, we access the true intellect (buddhi) in an increasingly powerful way. This allows us to see more deeply into situations and gain greater insight and wisdom about the reality that surrounds us. The Eternal Self by Phil Nuernberger Phil’s words inspired me to revisit stillness, to again experience those unique moments of clarity that arose whenever I sat silently in nature. I was curious to…
“Both friends came to realize that walking over long distances and spans of time is the surest way to find oneself.” Tobjorn Ekelund In Praise of Paths: Walking Through Time and Nature p. 33 I gazed into the campfire, watched the yellow and orange flames rise and fall, heard the crackle of burning wood, and smelled the wood smoke. Watching the flickering flames I made a decision to get up early and take a long hike. I wanted to better…
As the day designated for my surgery loomed steadily closer thoughts arose; in bad moments anxious scenarios of death, disability and disfigurement; in calmer moments practical concerns about all that needed to be done to prepare for the operation that would require a long incision across my neck. One morning, ten days out from surgery, my mind jumped past the surgery to the recovery process. I saw myself immersed in an image of all the plant and animal life surrounding…
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, But I have promises to keep, Robert Frost Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening Prologue I made my promise suddenly at the end of an hour long sit spot on a windy, bitterly cold January afternoon. Surrounded by brown and gray, dead and dormant winter trees I felt a need to see the symmetry of the seasons. I promised to return during the first week of June when the forest was reborn,…
Prologue John Slender strands of mist swirled over the still surface of Prompton Lake; lacy twelve inch strands, swirling clock wise, counter clockwise. I stood by the lake and watched each of my exhalations form a small cloud that floated out and mingled with the morning mist. It seemed as if my breath, although following a different time scale, somehow joined the greater respiration of the lake. Behind me I heard a few morning bird songs; the insistent teecha,…