This is the first in a series of stories about Riverview Natural Area by Greg Dardas, a Conservancy board member.
Giving up summer is not easy for me. In my mind, summer represents unstructured time, light clothing, warmth, “no school” and all sorts of warm, fuzzy features. This hike helped me to accept the inevitability of autumn, and its essential role in the cycle of life in our area.
As a fellow who spends more time than he’d prefer breathing air pumped through a furnace and under fluorescent lights, the moment I step into the woods at Riverview I rejoice in the cool atmosphere, imbued with the fragrances of autumn. Light is filtered between gently swaying branches and leaves fluttering and making their final descents. The ground has a “give” to it, almost a hollow feel, which comes from untold seasons of organic decay and rebirth.
Within a few hundred feet from the parking lot I forget the affairs of the day back in civilization, among my tie-wearing brethren and I feel instantly reunited with a more rustic frame of mind. I follow the well-marked trail as it winds slowly further into several types of terrain. There are open meadows, tunnels walled and roofed by deciduous trees. Giant evergreens are interspersed with it all, each providing a slow, steady supply of needles to the soft ground. I’m particularly fond of walking over a deep pack of decomposing pine needles. When I think of how many years of needles are underneath my feet as I walk along, I gain a special sense of the passage of time.
Whereas spring is the time of planting for humans, autumn is the time of planting for nature. The withering flowers signify maturing seeds which drop near the sites of their formation or are scattered by the wind, animals or other means to insert their DNA into the future. It gave me a comforting feeling to reflect upon this in the silence of the moment.
In a way, the withering flowers, while not at their best aesthetically, seemed even more beautiful to me when viewed in the light of connection with future generations.
Mushrooms are all around, some more conspicuous than others. There are as many varieties as I care to spend time seeking out beneath little leaf piles, against the bases of trees and under rotting vegetation. Supporting my camera against the ground so I could forego the flash in the dim light I grabbed a few macro shots of some of the more prominent or exotic species. I promise myself for the umpteenth time that I will spend the rest of the fall and winter learning my ‘shrooms well enough so next year I might be able to gather a few of the edible ones.
I liked lying on the ground so much that when I was done shooting the ‘shrooms I just set aside the camera and laid flat against the ground, feeling the vibrations of the Earth beneath my chest, abdomen and limbs. If I weren’t out there alone, I might not have taken the time to do this, at least not for so long. Having spent nearly all my supine time on a mattress or on the carpeted living room floor, there’s something particularly inviting and cozy about lying spread out like that upon the forest floor. Sure there are little insects and maybe a spider or two that might decide to climb aboard, but, for the moment anyway, that idea doesn’t bother me in the least. I’m in their domain, and only for a while, so I made the very most of it. The more the merrier I think to myself, and I hope I don’t squash anything or anyone as I enjoy the moment.
Just about the time I emerge from feeling all Earthy and begin to feel a little ridiculous lying spread eagle all alone against the ground, I heard the approach of some Canada geese, making their migration to warmer skies. I noted with amusement, that their V-formation allowed them to, in essence, draft one another, thus saving energy very much in the same way we sometimes do on the long rides of our Tri Group.
The sounds of the forest are a special treat as well. I put away my iPod soon after entering the woods. I had been listening to an audiobook which I was enjoying and finished a chapter as I was making my way onto the trail. So much of my day is spent with earbuds in place, and listening to the man-made sounds of the modern world… even the sound of the human voice as manifested with actual talking/listening… or even our thoughts. It is with some difficulty, but a very refreshing change of pace, that I turned off all my gadgets… and to as great an extent as possible, even my thoughts, and instead threw myself squarely into the camp of observer, of listener and even once and a while even onto the ground to take in sights from vantage points usually not explored.
The scents of the forest are also a delight… strange as it may seem, I took the opportunity to meditate upon the ambient overall smell of the atmosphere, and tried to pick out the source(s) of individual nuanced scents. I also would stick my schnoz into the middle of some of the remaining flowers, up close to mushrooms, and in some ways my favorite… into the region of decaying old logs.
The trail took me soon to the edge of the river. It’s great to see flowing water and I always like to stand at the edge and watch it flow by for a while. I took the time that day to climb down a navigable area, and to observe how the Autumn colors were reflected upon the surface of the slowly moving river surface. I didn’t see any fish, or in fact any birds on the water while I sat there on the bank. A few Blue Jays made their presence known now and again, but for the most part, all I heard was the sounds of a gentle breeze rustling through the trees and of a lot of water slowly drifting downstream carrying a few fallen leaves and the occasional branch.
Having lost track of time, only a fading camera battery gave me reason to check my watch. Sadly, I needed to get back to some other responsibilities, so with a bit of a sigh and pausing yet again to take in a few more deep refreshing breaths I quickened my pace a bit and headed for the car. Time well spent!
