Enveloped in dense fog I set up my camp stool on a large, flat, vegetation-covered rock that protruded into the still water of the back beaver pond. To my left the bare black branches of a willow tree splayed into the grayness. Beneath the willow ran the long shoreward reach of a massive beaver dam, an assemblage of uncountable sticks, branches and small logs woven together and secured with mud. Water spilled softly over the dam into the next…
Island of the Women “Coo-coo-cook, coo-coo-cook,” sounded softly but insistently from the dense jumble of trees, bushes, and vines just beyond the edge of the new concrete patio. This was the native vegetation of Isla Mujeres, the Island of the Women, a slender six mile strip of land sitting seven miles off the coast of Cancun, Mexico. According to legend, Mayan women seeking a fertility blessing would paddle across the bay to Isla, trek down to the stony cliffs…
I awoke at 4:20 a.m. in the midst of a dream with a crystal clear, 360 degree view of my home sit spot at Prompton Lake, the spot where I spent an hour a week during my year-long nature watching project. A voice from the dream whispered insistently, “Get up now. Get out to your sit spot.” Half awake, half immersed in the dream, I tried to make sense of the view and the voice. A longing to visit…
Silent observation of nature is an old and familiar practice. In Walden, Thoreau wrote, “You only need to sit still long enough in some attractive spot in the woods that all its inhabitants may exhibit themselves to you by turn.” In the early 1900s the noted naturalist and wildlife writer, Earnest Thompson Seton, promoted the idea of selecting a quiet spot in the woods, sitting still, waiting, and allowing nature to reveal itself. This technique, followed by outdoor enthusiasts and…