While the Gulf Choked

i watched the suspect on camera,
i drove the getaway car,
i fumed at the news on the radio,
i felt guilty every day,
i cursed capitalism,
i hugged my son tight and feared for his future,
i sat in traffic,
i counted plastic,
i took out the trash,
i recycled,
i lived a life of luxury,
i searched for sacrifice,
i acknowledged my hypocrisies,
i remembered public school classes teaching that progress is good,
i envied the Amish,
i wasted energy while i saved my energy,
i wiped my eyes when i read the report of the kid who sent his lemonade-stand money to a Gulf Coast fisherman,
i remembered the Exxon Valdez,
i remembered Three Mile Island,
i remembered Kuwait, Saudi Arabia and Iraq,
i convinced myself "these things happen",
i thanked the trees, the clouds, and the sun,
i mourned the loss of life,
i was lucky to continue my life.

Getting Your Feet Dirty

If you felt the earth gently shake a couple weeks ago, let me comfort you with an explanation.

Our boy Grayson officially shook hands..er...feet with Mother Nature in an unpublicized and informal ceremony in the foothills of Pennsylvania beneath the sheltering branches of the hemlock and ash, within the stone circle where Heather and I were married.
He hadn't had much use for his feet up until then.

With a guiding hand, we lowered him to the earth. He stood tall and dug his toes deep into the dirt and duff, and smiled serenely. It was a moist and cool afternoon. We simply asked him and the earth to respect each other and work towards a healthy, long term relationship.

It takes some work you know. Many adults still haven't figured out this relationship. When we focus on ourselves it is easy to overlook the ones we depend on.

Depend on the earth. Get to know her. Even if it means getting your feet dirty (it usually washes off).

Hold on to the Ephemeral

Last year around this time, I found a butterfly-shaped green leaf cluster on the ground alongside the backyard creek. And then I found another nearby. The more I searched, the more I found. As it was early Spring I waited and watched for days, hoping to see what kind of flower this new find would produce. Those leaves kept getting bigger, but no flowers emerged. One cluster held a tiny pod I was sure held the ingredients for perfect petals. But nothing happened. An Internet search showed a picture of a pristine little white flower unfurling, with a caption that read, "One of the Spring Ephemerals." A couple clicks later I learned the meaning of ephemeral: short-lived; lasting only a day or so. Ah, so I had somehow missed the blooming of that mysterious plant called the Bloodroot.

My son turned three months old last week. Every week I see something new and exciting when I look into his eyes. I wonder sometimes how I can hold on to the ephemeral beauty I see before me. He is in this stage now that if he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror he grins the most sincere grin I can imagine. I have been visiting the bathroom mirror a lot lately with him. I can't help it. I want to hold on to these moments, for I know they will pass. But of course some of them might return.

And so I returned to the creekside a little earlier this spring, before the green clustered leaves emerged. I watched for three weeks and finally last week I got my reward. The Bloodroots bloomed one cool morning and soaked up the afternoon sun. I was pleased to witness their day in the sun.

Enjoy What We Have

Last week we learned that one of our favorite local hiking trails, previously designated to be replaced by a highway bypass, is now going to be preserved as a natural area! We are relieved, perhaps selfishly, but none the less relieved.

Walking down the "Old Speedway" trails on a quiet afternoon, searching the ground for signs of early spring, is a natural tonic. Hearing nothing but the breeze through the trees or the faint laughter of exploring children is preservation of the soul. We are thankful.

The trail leads down to a bend in the Eno River beneath a large Beech tree. Here, another type of preservation is in progress. In this case, both the antagonist and victim is nature, for the Beech is a target of the beaver. Another player in this drama is the river itself, gnawing, year after year, flood after flood, at the soil and root upholding the big Beech. The humans are trying to help out here, with a wire beaver barrier wrapped around the tree trunk. It seems to be working. But the river is still doing its job. One day, I know the Beech will fall into the river and the beaver will get a nice surprise. Until then, we do what we can and enjoy what we have.

And so I think the same is true for "The Old Speedway Trails." For now, we do what we can and enjoy what we have. Remember to enjoy what we have!

Along a Path of Leaves

Ah, the sun felt good this weekend. We went for a hike with little Grayson. He bobbed quietly on my chest, in and out of sleep. I shielded his face whenever the trail turned directly into the sun. As we walked, we brushed through the dry leaves. I imagined Grayson listening to the rhythmic swishing; lulled by the rustling heartbeat. I don't know what he sensed, but I sensed he liked it.

Ever wonder what you would do if you lost the ability to do the things you love to do? I think about this often. Call it self-preservation, call it paranoia. I call it planning ahead and keeping my options open...having a plan B.

Well, as we were walking today, and I was thinking about Grayson and his developing senses, I imagined what I would do in nature without my full use of my own senses. Specifically I thought about eyesight, or rather the lack of sight, and how my great appreciation for the beauty of our natural world would be significantly altered. How would I deal? Grayson helped me understand that I would simply trust in someone else to lead me along a path of leaves. I would bask in the sunlight and listen to the foot scrapes. I would thank the trees for their gifts.

With Eyes Closed

I've been watching the sun a little closer. Lately it always seems to be in my little baby's eyes when we go out. Grayson jerks his head clumsily, but effectively, away from those screaming beams of light while I shuffle my feet and pirouette into the shadows. Speaking of shadows, I think Grayson is already looking ahead to Spring when the leaves emerge and the trees return their sheltering shade.
For now we stand on the front stoop with our back to the sun embracing its warmth with eyes closed.

A Fresh Perspective

There is a new kid in town! Grayson Eno Delisle was born December 21, 2009. Winter Solstice. I haven’t written much in this blog the past few months since our focus has been more internal. Now that Grayson is on the outside, I find myself imagining a fresh new perspective.

When it comes to nature and the out-of-doors, I tend to have a childlike view of things, full of curiosity, a bit of whimsy, and, inevitably, some silly interplay. I’m looking forward to sharing this view with Grayson, while also discovering what he sees when he’s outside.