Stillness and Light

   I have been chasing after kids. Literally, I have been following them around holding them accountable for what their mother asks of them. It is hard work. So, today I needed stillness. The best way to get stillness when you have four children with you is to take them into the forest. Much the same happens at the beach. Nature caresses, soothes, and lulls the loud right out of us. I told my grandchildren that I had an intention today. I intended to see and feel the light.

     Light plays hide and seek in the forest. It illuminates and then moves on to another spot. Always roving through branches, leaves, and bush. I bring up the rear of a gang of hikers who are remarkably peaceful, if not totally quiet.

    We listen for birds, smell the musty raindrops which fell hours before, and always follow the light.
   

    My favorite forest trail is the Fisher Pond Nature Preserve. I like seeing how it changes from season to season. The salmon berries are gone. We missed the window of opportunity to forage on their sweetness. But, huckleberries and blackberries are coming soon.

    I forget the soothing balm offered by the natural world. My overburdened mind finds such comfort in trees and especially the ever changing shine of the sun. Mother Earth and Father Sun have been here forever. I have existed forever, as well.

On Fisher Pond

    There is a certain etiquette on the forest trails that children learn and then teach each other. Having a quiet mind and observant eyes are essential. Yesterday we introduced two new cousins to Fisher Pond.  

         The water-lilies cover the pond in the summer but at water's edge life is teeming just under the surface. The fish and water skeeters reveal themselves only if you wait and watch.

Along the trail we stop and chat quietly. We listen for birds and ducks, we see various shapes and sizes of pinecones, and we discuss what berries are edible. The new cousins need to learn the facts of life on the trail.

       If you go into nature regularly the discoveries are endless. But it is also fun to run like mad down the trail and stay in front of the group. Come on Grandma, keep up!

Summer Forest Trail

    It is time to revisit my favorite forest trails and explore a few new ones. Yesterday, my photographer friend and I, set out to do the Burton Acres Trail. I am always surprised to see the changes in the forest. Huge Maple trees keep things shady and moist on this trail. I was on the look out for Troll Stools, described by Bianca Perla in her book, Family Walks. In her definition a troll stool is a stump which has bark growing back over it's top nourished by root systems around the base. Could this be one? It was hollow with new growth on top.

A sweet mushroom family stood at attention on top of a fallen log, shaded by ivy growing all around.

This forest trail is so quiet and peaceful, with natural couches and chairs to rest and recuperate from the jungle of life.

                       A new installation this year were the trail signs. It could be a big scout eagle project. They brought a cultivated air to the trail and helped me emerge in the right place at the end.

 "But it is hard to speak of these things

        how the voices of light enter the body

          and begin to recite their stories

         how the earth holds us painfully

           against

        it's breast made of humus and brambles"

                           Billy Collins

 "The rain to the wind said,

     "You push and I'll pelt."

   They so smote the garden bed

   And the flowers actually knelt

   And lay lodged-through not dead,

   I know how the flowers felt."

               Robert Frost 

  This particular trail has the bonus of coming out at the beach. What heaven to contrast deep woods and water's edge.

    My friend and I gathered sea souvenirs and I laid a collage of neutral colors amongst the driftwood.

Note to myself: Find "Gift From the Sea" by Anne Morrow Lindbergh and reread the message of solitude. Also, walk a trail once a week with a friend or with my Grands. You need it!

Early Spring at Fisher Pond

    I have made it my duty to compare changes from season to season at the Fisher Pond Preserve. Since yesterday yielded sun, I invited my friend, sans camera, to go investigate the early Spring sights.

    The path in changes from season to season. In Summer the grass takes hold and the ground is dry and firm, while in the Fall the yellow leaves pepper the path leaving gold coins amongst the dark mud. This time the Poplar catkins made us feel we were walking through living worms.

The Pond was quiet, no fish to scare on the surface, and the light was misty and hazy.

Garna suggested we look for the alphabet in the scenery to add line and shape. A's, V's. W's were plentiful in the fallen trees and shrubs.

While we were looking at the world through our lenses an eagle swooped from overhead making us chase  him with our cameras.

Still vulnerable in it's nakedness now, the Pond will soon have an explosion of green and very little of the water will be visible from the road or even from the trail. 

I can't wait to see it dressed up for Easter.

 See pictures from other seasons, here, here, and here.

The Longest Walk on the Shortest Day

    The weather was so beautiful today so I took a hike with the grandkids to Fisher Pond. I was curious what the trail was like at the 115th Ave entrance. It is a less traveled trail and is very narrow. No stroller access here.There are two wooden bridges, one which looked damaged but both were sturdy enough to ferry us over the ditches. The trail connects to the main Fischer Pond trail right at the entrance on Bank road so this ended up being a long hike, especially for my little toddler, Moonbeam. Winter started today and the forest had many new offerings. We were enchanted with the hanging moss.

                            Lichen jutted out of tree stumps as if to reach across the forest; looking like street lamps.

         Mushrooms popped out of the ground looking bold and sturdy, hiding their very fragile nature. Pine needles across the top made us think of starfish in the sea of the forest.

    I was anxious to see the pond and how it looked three months later. We took pictures in August, when there were flowering bushes and overflowing water plants; in October when those plants were dieing back; and now December when the pond was free of plant life and so open.

                                                            What beauty in every season!
   My little Moonbeam walked all the way in and only on the way back did she begin to go slower and slower until her little arms reached up for assistance.

   As I started back the way we came, Moonbeam perched on my arm, I was thankful to have have Miss Maggie at my side in case my load became too heavy to bear.

                                                         Life is good and Merry Christmas!

Fall Back to Fisher Pond

   I called my friend early one morning and invited her to walk the trail around Fisher Pond. We are both city girls who worry about getting muddy feet. I reviewed my plan when she questioned if the recent rain would make the trail impassable. I reassured her that we must think like Northwesterners and brave the elements.  My interest in being a naturalist is a new thing, not really my nature but I admire those who live outdoors most of their day. They see things I don't see and talk about the deep feeling they have for the natural world. When I put on my water-proof shoes, my raincoat and leave my purse at home, I feel I am going on an adventure.

My grandchildren and I had tumbled along the path in the height of summer and I was curious to see the difference in autumn. The summer sun had shimmered on the pond and made the green water-plants shift slowly like a moving meadow.  

Now the green plants are brown and drying up.Perhaps ice-skating does happen if the pond freezes. I couldn't imagine it with the summer plants covering the surface.

 I noticed the path was strewn with fallen, decaying leaves making a variegated pattern of yellow and gray.This was the same path my little Moonbeam had walked with over-eager steps.

 With some leaves gone the view through the trees revealed distant borders of the preserve. With the curtain of foliage thinning I could see the changes colors; from green to yellow, from red to brown.

     We met some fellow walkers running, meditating, and picking berries. I feel somewhat sheepish thinking that I rarely go commune with nature. It adds something that sitting in front of a computer, writing, just does not produce. I feel humbled by my foray into the wild; I'm not the center of this creation. I don't shine as brilliantly as the decaying fern in the middle of the green frame.

   I am grateful for the day. I was accompanied by a valued friend and had a front row seat to the best color show on my rock.

The Forest In Your Back Yard

 Some of you may be lucky enough to have woods in your backyard. By that I mean uncultivated by man, with only trails cut into the underbrush. My own children wanted me to follow them into the woods behind our house but I had laundry to do and lunch to fix. Now my grandchildren are coaxing me into the thickets and I am getting an education. Did you know that there are two kinds of Huckelberries, one red and one purple, and that their leaves are entirely different?
 

Berrying is what keeps the eyes of my Grands sharp, as they look up and down every bush. A full, heavy, overhang of huckleberries is pure delight and stops our caravan instantly. With Papa along, the top branches are emptied as fast as the lower ones.
  "How do you know that this is a thimbleberry?" I asked Shea.
   He stood still for a moment in the dusty, graveled road and looked around him.
   "The leaves look like grape leaves and have five points, and there is a bush, and over there as well."
  

 I was impressed at his observations and curious if he was aware that he was classifying nature around him.
   "What is the difference between the leaves on the red and purple huckleberries?" I asked.
 

 "The leaves on the red are soft and thin while the purple ones are thick."
   This knowledge of berries seemed to give my grandson a feeling of power. I could see by his upright posture and his sure step that he was at home here in the woods. On this family walk we were looking for a trail that might connect to Fisher Pond. Our confidence waned as each opening in the brush stopped. We looked back from where we had come. The woods we entered were just off the kid's driveway and we had followed a trail which looked to head in the direction of Agren Park.

As we emerged from the woods back on the baseball field we came across an amazing sight. A seat, just child's size, was made by a thick branch, which had grown sideways and made a half circle. The circled wood was worn smooth, reddish brown like mahogany, and showed signs that hundreds of children had been cradled there over the years.

"King of the Forest!" the boys shouted in unison


 "And Queen as well," insisted Maggie.

  

 Nature had captured us again by this oddity. It reminded me of the bicycle which had been left propped against a tree and over time had been engulfed by it. There it was, twenty feet up in the air, with one wheel on each side of the trunk. How many years did it take to engulf the bicycle? And how old was the child now, who had left it there?
   

In our discovery of the regal throne, the quest to find a connection to Fisher Pond was dismissed. That was for another day, another walk, when we again would leave the bustle of our homes to enter the natural world.

Fisher Pond

  I can not believe I have lived in this town for twenty years and not ever visited Fisher Pond. I have seen a little of it driving by on Bank Road and I have heard stories of ice-skating there, but I was never induced to stop and check it out. Now I have been there twice this week.

 
The first visit was with all five Grands on my husband's last vacation day. We found the trail entrance which Bianca described in her book. I was impressed with the evenness and width of the trail. That makes a difference when you are walking with a toddler.This was our fourth family walk in two weeks so the kids were primed and excited to explore.
    Miss M. was immediately enthralled with all the sweet pea flowers she saw. She wanted to gather a few to take home to her mother.

 
Huckleberries were plentiful and Papa gathered them by the handful and passed them out. There were a few places where we had to stop to do some imaginative play. Unbeknowst to me I had along a few pirates.

 
Nothing prepared me for the beauty of the pond when we came to the overlook. At first it looked just like an open meadow, but as we looked closer we saw water and then realized the plants were on the water shifting and waving in the sunlight.

   
The mood became quiet as we sat by the water with the sun warming our faces. Nature has a way of claiming the stage when it puts on such a gorgeous play of colors and textures.

 
The only thing that pushed us back on the trail was a very industrious toddler who was ready to set off again.

I went back again with my good friend, who has lived here even longer than I.


   I knew I had to share this with her and others who need to appreciate this beautiful resource gifted to our town and maintained by the Land Trust.