Woods Wanderer

Winter persists. A Nor’easter dumped over a foot of snow on northern New England this week, followed by an all-too-familiar cold snap. But the March sun melts the ice with ease at midday, and lingers into early evening. There is hope for us yet. The equinox, after all, is only four days away.

My dog Matika was so restless this morning that I had no choice but to take her out for a run. She was my excuse, anyhow. Where to go? Usually I gravitate to the woods, but today I went to the lake. If I can’t have warmth and greenery, then give me blue sky and sunlight.

A wicked north wind greeted me as I stepped out of my car and walked to the edge of Lake Champlain. It was iced over as far as the eye could see. I tossed a ball for Matika while trudging across the icy ground between snowdrifts. Judy had warned me about this bitter, lakeshore cold. But I ventured into it anyway, chasing the light.

The many tracks in the snow assured me that Matika and I weren’t alone in our restlessness. A few hardy ice fishermen stood motionless on the bay ice despite the cold. For a moment I imagined lake water lapping gently to shore before me as it had the last time I was here.

My eyes watered as the wind blew, urging me to cut my walk short. Oblivious to the cold, Matika kept running after the ball. Clouds appeared on the western horizon and that was it for me. Back inside for another day. Spring will arrive soon, the optimist in me kept thinking. And I smiled when I saw a shamrock decoration plastered to the window of a house during my drive home.  Yes, spring will arrive soon, very soon.

Tags: Lake Champlain, light, sunlight, winter walking

It has been a long winter, colder than any in memory, and I have a case of cabin fever that won’t quit. That’s why I went out this morning after a round of writing, despite the fact that it got down to 3 below zero last night. By the time I’d pulled on several layers of wool clothing and had slipped out the door, it was 10 above zero. Still very cold for early March, but it would have to do.

Matika was as happy as I was to get out of the house. She ran circles around me as I tramped a hard-packed trail cutting through the woods. She disappeared momentarily. When I found her she was chewing on the bones of a deer that hadn’t survived the winter.

The tracks of several other wild animals crisscrossed the trail. This time of year, they could only be doing one thing: looking for food.  That made me realize just how easy I have it. Grumble all I want about this long, cold season, at least I’m well fed.

The fresh air, bright sunlight, and forest silence work wonders on me regardless of the time of year, no matter what the thermometer says. It was good getting out this morning, and I was just a little disappointed when I’d finished the loop and had returned to the car. So soon?  Not the daylong excursion that I so desperately need, but good enough for now.

Patience, patience. Spring isn’t far away. In a few more weeks, Matika and I will be slogging through cold mud. Then we’ll be in our glory.

Tags: cabin fever, hiking with dogs, winter kill, winter walking

On Saturday, March 8th, I’ll be talking about the Northville/Placid Trail to my fellow Green Mountain Club members. I’m excited by the prospect. This will be my first time presenting to the GMC, and my first time using visuals.  Judy has helped me put together a slide show. If you live anywhere near the GMC Visitor Center in Waterbury Center, VT then come on down. $5 fee for members. $8 for non-members. The event starts at 7 pm.

If you miss that show, I’ll be at Stowe Library at 7 pm on Thursday, March 27th, doing something similar, reading from my NPT hiking narrative, The Allure of Deep Woods, and talking about the importance of wildness. As many of you know all too well, talking comes naturally to me.

While I’d rather be on the trail winding through the Adirondacks, talking about it with like-minded others is the next best thing. Like many Vermonters, I sometimes forego the lush, green mountains close to home for the sprawling forests on the other side of Lake Champlain. It’s a good thing to share.

When it comes to Adirondack wildness, the Northville/Placid Trail is the way to go. There are lots of people in the High Peaks region, especially during the summer. But it isn’t difficult to experience wilderness solitude on the NPT. That’s why I don’t mind talking about it. The NPT is the less-traveled path.

Tags: Adirondacks, backpacking, hiking, Northville/Placid Trail, wilderness, wilderness travel

Pity the poor coworker who had to put up with my surly mood yesterday. Because of a head cold, I haven’t been able to go snowshoeing this past week. And the foot of snow that fell a couple days ago created ideal conditions. Life isn’t fair. But my home still has power running to it, my cupboards are full, and I haven’t been in a car accident or stuck out on the highway like some people, so how dare I complain?

Truth is, I am now dreaming of spring. I resisted it as long as I could, but reverie overtook reality this week. Now I’m in the thick of it, pining for the green season and a forest floor covered in wildflowers. It’s worse than being sick.

I am luckier than most. I don’t mope through late March and the better part of April, longing for balmy temps. The first tramp across cold mud is enough for me to call it spring.  And every bug I encounter, every hint of new vegetation emerging from the bleached forest duff, will be cause for celebration. So the beginning of my spring season is only five or six weeks away. All the same, I’m lost in daydreams right now.

Writing about my outdoor excursions only scratches the itch. For a couple hours each morning, I am in a different time and place. But when I finish, the cold reality of the here/now bears down upon me. It’s a strange way to live, to say the least.

When a cardinal’s song penetrates the frosty window of my workspace, I know I’m not alone. Others are dreaming of spring as well – longing for the bounty of it, anyhow. But winter still has teeth. So I’ll stop brooding long enough to shovel away the snow from my door and go fill the bird feeders. There’s no sense letting daydreams get in the way of living.

Tags: cabin fever, daydream, reality, reverie

A couple months ago, I started a new job about a mile away from home. I’ve been walking to work since then. It’s a welcome change from commuting. All the same, I get the urge every once in a while to walk in more natural surroundings. That’s when I usher my dog Matika into the car and drive to a trailhead.

The Rail Trail is close to home. Even if I drive to my favorite section of it, I can be there in ten minutes. So that’s where I went yesterday, after a round of writing and running a few errands.

I didn’t need snowshoes. Thanks to manic temperatures, most of the snow that has fallen so far this winter has melted away. But walking through a couple inches of the white stuff is much like walking in sand. No matter. I took my time and the walk was pleasant enough.

Regardless what time of year it is, the fresh air and silence work on me like a tonic. Being among trees helps, too, even if they are naked. As anyone who does it regularly will tell you, walking is good for the soul.

I do my best thinking when I’m walking. My indoor thoughts tend to be stinky, downbeat, myopic. But outdoors, on my feet and moving, my thoughts are fresher, more upbeat, expansive. All that circulating blood helps, I’m sure.

I prefer walking in the warmer seasons, but a winter walk is still better than sitting inside all day. Come spring I’ll head for the hills and really stretch my legs. In the meantime, this will do.

Tags: walking, winter

Loon Wisdom: Sounding the Depths of Wildness has just been published. Thanks to the efficient print-on-demand services offered by CreateSpace, I was able to get this book out there rather quickly.

This is the best, most comprehensive collection of my short work ever put into print. Two-thirds of these personal essays and narratives have appeared in earlier collections of mine, but the other third are relatively new or previously unpublished.

There are twenty-five pieces in this collection altogether.  The earlier work focuses upon elemental nature and our various interactions with it, while latter work delves into the importance of wildness to being human – a favorite theme of mine these days. Nearly all of these pieces catch me hiking, fishing or simply being in the woods.

Ordering WTB titles is much easier than it used to be. You can get a copy by going to Amazon.com or visiting my website, WoodThrushBooks.com and using PayPal.  

Tags: fishing, hiking, Loon Wisdom, natural philosophy, nature essays, nature writing, wildness

Because of the thick coat of ice covering everything during the past few weeks, my dog Matika and I haven’t been outdoors much. Restless and feeling pent up, we went out Monday in spite of it.

A January thaw had melted off most of the ice and snow. All the same, the trail was difficult to negotiate. Good thing I was wearing Yaktrax rubber and wire traction devices on my boots. Without them I would have been sliding all over the place. As things were, I did better than Matika.

I was busy doing literary work most of the day so we didn’t leave the house until late in the afternoon. That put us on the trail just before dusk. We did a short loop that only took an hour. I had stashed a headlamp in a jacket pocket before leaving the house, but I really didn’t want to use it.

A little exercise, fresh air, and the sound of wind whispering through the trees. These are reasons enough to go for a hike no matter what the conditions are, even in the dead of winter. Matika is always ready when I am. The hardest part is getting out of the house.

From an icy ledge, I enjoyed a good view of Mount Mansfield all blue and frigid-looking in the distance. A short while later, a swath of pink streaked across the sky. I caught glimpses of it through the barren trees.

In winter, when the flora and fauna are dormant, the elemental aspects of the natural world are more pronounced. Every time I witness it, I resolve to get out more this time of year. But the dire warnings of weather forecasters keep me hunkered down at home more often than not. My mistake.

Tags: hiking with dogs, nature in winter, the elements

One thing leads to another. A month and a half ago, I switched jobs. That put my wife Judy and I on the same schedule, making it difficult for me to do literary work and her to relax at the same time in our common living space downstairs. The solution was simple: move my office upstairs. After all, we have a bedroom up there that is used only a week or two each year. So last week Judy helped me move my furniture. Then I built some more shelves and hauled all my books and papers up the stairs.

Now I have a room of my own where I can close the door and work undisturbed. After spending a little time in this new workspace, I wonder why I didn’t make the move a long time ago.

It’s ten below zero outside this morning. The weather forecasters say it won’t get above zero today. I had planned on going for a hike with my dog this afternoon but I think we’ll stay inside instead. So it goes this time of year.

Funny thing about being an outdoor/nature writer: I do most of my work indoors. Oh sure, I venture into the woods when I can and scribble in a field journal while I’m out there. But the work is done on a computer screen at home. The way I figure it, the cold season is the best time for writing since I prefer being outside the other seven months of the year.

Deep winter. I expect to get a lot of work done during the next few months. Now I have a good space in which to do it. The world will thaw out soon enough. Then there will be plenty of things to draw me outside.

Tags: nature writing, winter, workspace

Today is the shortest day. Today winter begins. As someone who loves everything green and growing, not to mention daylight, I find this to be a tough time of year. I am not alone in this.

I believe that the holidays were invented to help us cope with the darkness, and to ease the transition into the cold season. Hope, joy, love, and everything warm and bright indoors – we certainly make the best of things, don’t we? I have lights on my house, a decorated tree in my living room, and holiday cards on full display. Yeah, I too take the Winter Solstice seriously.

The other day I went for a walk in the woods. There was enough snow on the ground to cover up the starkness of the landscape and the snow-laden boughs of conifers were easy on the eye. I was chilled at first but exertion got my blood flowing. After a while I started thinking: “This isn’t so bad.”

Oddly enough, winter is the hardest to take when we are struggling to get from our homes to somewhere else by car or some other mode of fast transportation. On foot, in the woods, it’s not so bad at all.

While sitting at home and listening to weather forecasters, it seems like disaster is imminent. The forest tells another story: temperatures rise, then they fall. Storms come, then the sky breaks open. And the seasons cycle round and round.

Winter is nothing to get all stressed out about. Worst case scenario, stay off the road. There’s plenty to do indoors. And when the walls start closing in, go for a walk. If nothing else, it’ll help you appreciate what your furnace or fireplace provides.

Tags: light, natural cycles, walking, winter solstice

The urge to further explore the cosmos is coming back to me. When the night sky is clear, I can’t help but look skyward and marvel at the universe. Not long ago, I pulled out my binoculars and revisited the Andromeda Galaxy. More recently, I went to the Astronomy Picture of the Day website and checked out the incredible photos there. I think it’s time to crack open some cosmology books, dust off my telescope, and let the cogs in my head whirl about once again.

I reviewed my cosmos manuscript the other day, clicking into it after a short round of writing. What I found there got me thinking. It’s pretty good for being an early draft. Why not finish it?

I abandoned the cosmos manuscript years ago. At that time I couldn’t justify putting a year of work into something that would be difficult to market. After all, I’m no expert in the field. But I have a passion for the subject and that’s reason enough to finish the book. Besides, I am ready to have my mind blown again.

Cosmology is not for the faint of heart. The wild universe, hidden in plain sight, undermines any complacent understanding of things. Do not go there if you like having your feet planted firmly in some comfortable worldview. I have delved deep into the matter only to have my head explode, time and again. It’s intellectually thrilling yet exhausting. If you have ever pondered the big bang, red shifts, black holes, or dark matter, then you know what I’m talking about.

Unlike most people with a scientific bent, I do not look skyward and say, “God is dead.” On the contrary, I find in the night sky affirmation that we live in an ordered universe, that it is not all chaos and random occurrences. One look at a spiral galaxy is proof enough to me that some organizing force is at work. Gravity alone defies chance.  But what is really going on out there? Like I said, the subject isn’t for the faint of heart… or the simple minded.

Tags: astronomy, cosmology, metaphysics, nature, religion, science