Side by Side

Four of two and two of four. These were the numbers and configurations of feet on the trail in our group Sunday morning. Heather and I walked with friends who walked with dogs. Collectively we plodded, panted, stumbled, talked, sniffed and marked our way along Sal’s Branch Trail through the density of leaf-darkened Piedmont parkland.

Umstead Park buffers Raleigh NC from the daily thunder of airport traffic. It is not wilderness. But it has its wild sides. We explored the north side, the side which descends to a paddle-worthy lake by way of a smooth-pebbled creek. The creek held clear water, not muddy, despite the locally muddy runoff. This creekbed contained small rocks in grainy profusion: a snaking, sunken sandbar with, tan, oversized granules. Further down, the rocks turned to quartz, more white than sandy. The upper trail surface was woody: not mulchy, but sinewy, with crisscrossing, water-searching, elevated speed bump roots. Step on this one, step over that one. We took turns leading and following.

Dampness, from leftover rains, settled into the leaf pits and rotting logs. Fungus families sprouted in their favorite regions, recognizably distinct and purposeful. Mysterious subterranean networks arose forbiddingly into quaint villages. From orange and red to white and brown, flat saucer tops; some spindly, some round.
Unaware at times, we squished those few who surfaced mid-trail. Unfortunate fungi.

But what stood out today, to me, were those former trees who no longer stood. X marked many a spot along the trailside where straight wooden trunks lay in quiet repose, amidst fern and vine. Many had flat and smooth ends cut by saw. Were they blown by fierce storms, and then cleaned by kind hands? Or were they cut by fierce hands, and left to be cleaned by kind storms? In everything there are elements of nature and nurture. In Umstead too, side by side.