Ripening

 

 

This is the first year, ever, that I've taken up the backyard effort to grow vegetables. I'm a little nervous, so, wish me luck.

International Mud Day

Tree Effects

I've lived for a long time with the philosophy that there is no problem, no mental funk that a good hike can't cure. I practiced this philosophy for the better part of my college experience by studying trees. Refined the idea over a habit of weekends and holidays doing the same.

Japanese scientists have studied the biological effects what I'd guess intuitively from a walk in the woods. They found reduced stress levels in the body, decreased blood pressure, and a strengthened immune system better able to fight tumors and viruses.

Researchers at Columbia University correlated trees in urban neighborhoods to a lower incidence of asthma. Similar studies indicate that anxiety, depression and even crime are lower tree-lined environments.

I stand at one of those life moments where things shift quickly. Everything feels uncertain. As a result I've spent a great deal of time wearing hiking boots. Over the past year I have visited a stand of redwoods, hiked an eastern deciduous forest, picked apples from an orchard, run a swamp stomp, watched leaves bud and studied the fissures of tree-bark. I have caked my shoes in mud. I have giggled to throw the front door open extra wide just to bring in a little more fresh air. 

So I was pleased to hear Geoffery Donovan, a researcher with the U.S. Forest Service, recently suggest we consider that trees might not be just an essential part of the natural environment but equally essential to our well being. It was one of those moments when someone else, someone I've never met put words to an idea I had. Better than that Mr. Donovan puts statistics and findings behind what I could only guess. He goes on to say we could start thinking of trees as part of our public health infrastructure.  

There's an expansive way of thinking that happens when I go for a hike. A way that breathing becomes less constricted in a stand of trees.  A dimmed vision of my failings when immersed in something larger. Obviously, I like hiking. Regardless of my position on a map the effect of forests will always help me arrive at a better space in my head.  

Wet Weather

The air was wet, the sky all purpled up. I know what it looks like when rain is coming. I know dry and warm is inside. 

But I had that wondering. That sense that I'd miss something if I didn't wheel up. Mix in my irrational sense of optimism and I was a goner. I convinced myself the rain could, or would, hold off entirely. With one click of the chin clasp on my bike helmet I shrugged and thought, at most, maybe, maybe it would be just be a light sprinkle. 

I got soaked clean through. A cold rain that started off with fat plops before opening up a full downpour. The surprise wasn't the storm itself but the sweet, giggly feel of it. The way my toes flinched against my sandals. The swishing noise of my bike tires against the puddled up pavement. The spray that comes from wind shaking around a tree full of wet leaves.

I rolled up to my destination. Drip dried on the porch for a moment. Rubbed my cold cheeks that were stiff from smiling. I forget how much I can love wet weather. 

Hidden and Alone

Outside Denton, Nebraska

"The solitude of the prairie is like no other, the feeling of being hidden and alone in a grassland as open as the sea." 

-- Richard Manning (Grassland: The History, Biology, Politics and Promise of the American Prairie)

Summer Start

The sun came out yesterday after weeks of rain. 

Swinging the garage door open after a long bike ride I felt thrilled and exhausted. 

After showering up I smiled to realize my time on two wheels brought me my first bug-bite and my first sunburn of the season.