The Aldo Leopold Bench At 3:30 a.m., with such dignity as I can muster of a July morning, I step from my cabin door, bearing in either hand my emblems of sovereignty, a coffee pot and a notebook. I seat myself on a bench facing the white wake of the morning star. I set the pot of coffee beside me. I extract a cup from my shirt front, hoping none will notice its informal mode of transport. I…
Down three flights of stairs, a quick sixty-eight steps across the yard, and I arrived at the edge of the vacant lot. Often while on vacation at my timeshare I had walked by this lot usually eager to get to the beach and had paid scant attention to what by all appearances was simply an overgrown and neglected patch of property. Then two days ago on my way to a beach walk I heard faint seet-seet-seet calls, turned and spotted…
The question in my mind as I walked up the side of the elevated sand mound was clear. Could I experience a deep nature connection conducting an hour long sit spot right in my back yard? I thought the answer was yes, given that nature was most likely just as rich and complex in my backyard as in some remote and wild park or forest. It was an important question for me. I hoped to demonstrate that the sit spot…
For the majority of enthusiasts, however, birdwatching simply provides a personal and very special entrée into the natural world. Graeme Gibson Day 1 Faint first light, swirls of yellow and orange edging above the southern horizon, the excitement of an early morning winter sit spot— this all felt familiar. The difference was I didn’t have to layer up, drive on icy roads, and trudge through deep snow to get to my destination. Instead, I was seated in…
It was that morning in October, the one after a night of heavy rain and strong wind that knocked down the leaves and now the bare branches looked more like November and it was no longer possible to think that somehow the warm days of October might go on forever. As I walked across my yard in the dim, gray, pre-dawn light I saw the gray-black, skeletal silhouettes of ash and maple trees, silent forest sentinels that would have to…
I couldn’t pinpoint the moment when I descended into a state of melancholy, a state where I felt discouraged, tired, hopeless, annoyed, even sad. As usual it was some litany of little things that added up; a misunderstanding with a friend, no clear way forward on a task that needed to be done, an appliance breaking down, persistent bad weather, an aching knee. And maybe there were bigger things lurking in the background; a worrisome health problem, a family member…
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…
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…