Winter Walks
Hey Folks. I’m back from a three week hiatus with stories I’m excited to share. I spent almost 2 weeks in Florida and then started a new job in Maine when I returned. So, things have a been a little crazy lately, but ave certainly been fun. Since returning from Florida, other than being at the office, I’ve taken two weekend courses at the Maine Primitive Skills School and had the opportunity to take several late night walks around the Camp Medomak property.
Working at an office is much different from the “woods office” that I’ve been accustomed the past few years. I’m learning the power of environment and how the environment that we choose to put ourselves in shapes who we are in many, often subtle, ways. Noticing this, I’ve been coming back to camp after being in the office all day and doing a “detox” walk, where I walk around the forests and fields at night.
When I get back from my walks I take a few minutes to journal my experiences. I’ve found journaling helpful in keeping my experiences real. The best example of this I can think of is keeping a dream journal. Have you ever woke up from a intense dream and within several minutes can’t remember what it was about? We’ll, I journal my experiences in the woods for a similar reason. Here’s one of my recent journal entries.
One of my favorite parts about living in New England is the distinctness of each season. It is winter now and even though it has been a mild one, the spirit of winter has settled deep over Medomak Camp. For me, winter is a time of reflection, envisioning, and contemplation. Spring lay far below, coiled up like a cobra ready to strike. And fall is a distant memory, almost like a nearly forgotten dream. I spend a lot of my time sitting, dreaming about the upcoming seasons. What projects to undertake once the snows melt and where to devote my energy in this exciting new year.
Then I step outside, and my thoughts are engulfed in the cold silence on this clear Maine night in the family camp field. The nights are always colder without the blanket of clouds to insulate the earth. The moon is young and the stars are brilliant. I attempt to ponder the awesomeness of the night sky, but soon my mind surrenders in amazement. It wanders to thoughts of the sun. I jump between curiousity and amazement as I begin the calculations. How many Jupiters can fit inside the moon? How many Earths can fit inside Jupiter? I try to remember 7th grade science class, but the numbers become irrelevant. The hugeness is too big to fit in my head. Each of those tiny sparkly dots in the sky is similar to a sun, I think to myself. WOW.
My wandering continues across the field and into the woods. Crunch, crunch, crunch with every step. The temperatures have fluctuated above and below freezing the past 2 days, and now the melting snow from this afternoon has solidifyed into a very crunchy and crumbly sub straight. I take a few steps, then stop and listen for sounds, hoping that the animals are having the same difficulty keeping quiet as I am.
I contemplate what the deer are doing on this cold night. Perhaps they are bedding down beneath the insulating branches of a hemlock tree. I reach my bare hand down into the cold, icy snow to feel the deer tracks beneath my feet. I can feel their two toe imprints solidified in ice on the track floor. I know they like this area, behind the lone cabin next to the entrance to the swim trail. I’ve followed their tracks from the waterfront to the cabin many times. The fox use the same trail everyday. The turkeys use it also, but less frequently.
My hand moves from track to track. I wish I knew more about the deer in this area. I begin to fantasize about spending a week in the woods, following the deer from a distance they fell safe. How many days would it take for them to let me get close to them? I picture myself foraging fir tips, cattail roots, and other wild plants from a distance and stuffing my clothes with beech leaves for most of my bedding insulation. I want to watch their daily routines and how they move accross the landscape. I want to see their reactions to the bird alarms in the distance and where they hide when they hear the coyotes coming.
Recently I’ve been having many daydreams similar to this one. I guess thats part of winter for me and a release from being cooped up inside all day. Anyone else out there feeling the cabin fever beginning to set in? These are the hardest times of the year. Get outside! Breathe in the cold air, observe the night sky, follow a trail of animal tracks. Let your curiosity run rampant. And then come back and share your story with a friend or a loved one. Try it and see what happens.
I’ll be posting again soon. I was tracking the Medomak fox this weekend and found its den site. Pictures are on the way! Thanks for reading.
