September 12th, 2012
Accustomed to waking up at an unnaturally early time every morning during the week, I arose by natural habit. It was 7 am on another spring day in Maryland and the weekend had arrived. I planned to go hiking provided the weather was at least somewhat reasonable. As I sat up and looked out the window, I realized the sun was in the majority today. After some coffee and a brief and bland breakfast, I hit the road.
Approaching the trail head I saw a man, maybe fifty five years old, dressed in full camouflage looking at the maps posted along side the road. He had a small pickup truck with a cover parked next to a sign with maps, but didn’t have a bow, gun, or dog along with him. I parked on the other side of the parking lot, mainly because it’s closer to the trail entrance, grabbed my backpack, and set off. Before crossing the road the man stopped me. “Do you come here often?” the man asked. “Occasionally” I replied. “You wouldn’t happen to know if there’s any turkey back here would you?”
One spring earlier I ran into almost a dozen baby chicks on the very same trail I was about to walk. My first thought was that I couldn’t touch them. I knew from a very young age that once you touch a chick that either fell out of a nest or strayed from it’s mother, they were more than likely going to be abandoned by the mother. They seemed innocently curious of me and I really wasn’t sure what to do. It was a hot day and the sun was illuminating the dozen chicks like a patch of daffodils. Like a fool, I decided to dig for worms; I found only one and the chicks weren’t all that interested when I threw it over by them. Finally, I realized there was little I could do for them, so I gracefully stepped over them and started walking away. Just as I did, something off to my left caught my eye. As I turned to look I saw a turkey’s head protruding from the thick foliage staring right at me. It was a hen, most certainly the mother. I was quite happy to see her and she was quite happy to see me leave. I can’t imagine the stress I put on that mother turkey as she watched me do as I pleased with her chicks. After walking for about a hundred meters or so I heard the turkey quietly call and imagined the baby chicks stumbling down the trodden path at the mercy of anything that came the other direction.
I spoke to the man briefly, letting him know of my experience and recommended he walk back about a mile into the woods early in the morning and see if he could catch the turkeys coming out of their nightly roost in the trees. He thanked me and after a brief discussion of the area, we went our separate ways. Off I went passing through the trail head, barely marked and missed by all those who aren’t aware of its existence. Moving quickly past the giant ominous boulder that protruded from the ridge side and over the several large trees that have fallen across the trail, I made my way back to the first wide open space at which point I always stop to look up to the sky and listen. It required either walking along the ridge for a brief moment through a small briar patch in an attempt to circumvent a mud pit, or trudging through the mud without regard for the messy result. The small open expanse is formed through the absence of large and somewhat intimidating trees often found on the East Coast, yet was surrounded by small thick brush and swamp which kept all large animals on a single track path. No matter how often I frequent this trail I cannot help but stop at this spot and look up at the monstrous trees in awe. Further up the trail are the remnants of a farmer’s barb wire fence, mainly the posts, sunken down into the marshy grasses. The tree cover thickens which provides constant shade and the trail briefly skirts up the ridge overlooking the river off to the left.
A rather picturesque curtain waterfall exists shortly after the point which the ridge and the stream converge. A boulder placed just below the falls provides an excellent fishing post, convenient only if there were fish to be caught. Following along the winding single track path through the woods and back, yet again, along side the river brings an abrupt choice. Take the clear path to the immediate right, diverging from the river, or choose to follow up the river side through the thick brush. Success and reward is often found on the other side of a difficult path, thus, I chose to follow the river. Within fifty yards of that fork was a small clearing along the river covered by small tree branches. It was at this place I found much peace. So far from anyone else and away from the busy world I was able to observe nature in its undisturbed form. My desire to constantly busy myself with some task, choice, or thought at any given moment faded and I was left with stillness. It was at this moment when I was slowly enveloped by nature itself; birds perched in the trees above me, butterflies landed on the stones around me, and bugs flew around me. The very act of alleviating all pursuits had provided the results of pursuit. One can try with all their being to find something which is only visible through stillness.
”I am the one whom you have hidden from, and you appear to me. But whenever you hide yourselves, I myself will appear. For whenever you appear, I myself will hide from you.” ”Thunder, Perfect Mind”, Nag Hammadi
