Into the Woods

I may have mentioned this before, but when I was growing up in central Indiana, my Dad raised beagles. They weren't just pets, they were hunting dogs. Dad used to put a few of them on leashes and load them into the car and take them off to "run rabbits." For those of you who have never experienced this, I will explain. You go to the woods and you find a brush pile. There are usually rabbits hiding in brush piles. You have the dogs there, usually still on leashes.  You can kick the brush pile, or jump on the brush pile and it will startle the rabbit. He runs out. You unleash the dogs and they follow the rabbit's trail. They run for a while, baying every little while. Baying equals barking, usually a prolonged note, not just a choppy, short bark. You follow the dogs until they either lose the trail or the rabbit hides in another brush pile. You can kick the rabbit out again, or be done for the day.

I mention it because I think this is when I first learned to love being in the woods. My Dad used to take one or more of us five kids along for company. We learned to tromp through briars and brambles, crawl over fallen trees and branches, swish through long grass, all while being quiet. I learned to appreciate solitude. Even though we were there together, we didn't really talk much. We were alone in our thoughts. I am sure I can imagine why Dad liked it so much. If you had five rambunctios children, wouldn't you want to go hide in the woods for a while? I only had three, and I am sure I can imagine the reasons it gave him such joy.

I was thinking about all of this at least two days this week when I came home "the back way" from work. I drive through the Bristol Fruit Hills. Just east of State Road 15 on County Road 112 and also County Road 14, there are some deep woods. This time of year the snow is patchy in there. You can see through layers and layers of trees. You can see places where the snow still is thick on the ground because it hasn't been warm enough to melt where the woods is thick enough to keep the sun out. The branches are all bare. The bracken or weeds and wildflowers have not yet started to grow back up yet. I see deer trails in there. I drive by slowly and I imagine myself walking on the floor of the woods. I imagine the trees standing tall all around me and picking my way through carefully, always watching the next step. I'm stopping every few minutes just to listen. Quiet. I am looking as far as my eyes can see, trying to catch a glimpse of some wild thing. Maybe a deer will appear. I have seen turkeys in there. Maybe there will be something even more exotic: I saw a pheasant two weeks ago. He was right on the road. I stopped and tried to take his picture with my camera phone, but he ran down the road. Guess he didn't want to be photographed.

I wish I could transport myself to the woods and, better yet, to the tranquility I feel when I am in the woods whenever every day stresses abound. I like my job, but it is still a job. Every job has stress. Mine has its share. I don't have the luxury of being able to close my eyes and imagine much while I am at work. I have to concentrate on the job at hand. But, if I could, I would go more often into some woods. I would breathe deeply and walk along, alone with my thoughts. (I am such great company, aren't I? And modest, too.) To me, it is important to have that solitude. Life goes by in such a hurry. We should take time out to think about it all. To laugh. To grieve. To live.

I have so many thoughts that I need to be alone with right now. I do wish I could go to the woods to think all these things through. A child, one of my daughter's dance students, died a senseless death last week. Why? A friend hurt me very deeply this week without even knowing it. (Only friends can hurt you that way.) I am happy that my husband is working again. But, I confess, I worry about how long it will last. I worry, sometimes, about how long I will last. We are seriously thinking about moving back to Elkhart to save all the driving we can because gas is going up. Neither one of us really wants to move, let alone moving to Elkhart. So much to think about! How I long to go to Bonneyville Mill and walk in the woods and think about all this stuff. But it's raining. It's muddy. It's chilly.

I will get there, though. One of these days, I will go into the woods. I will breathe deeply. With each breath, I will expel all the toxic drag from my life. I will breathe in fresh, clean, new life. I will smile and serenity will come. God will talk to me. I will finally listen. It will be so awesome. Maybe the sun will shine through. It isn't necessary, but just an added benefit. Problems will get solved. Even if the problems don't get solved, I will feel better about all of it. I will forgive the hurts, little ones and big ones. Oh, how I wish I were there right now, in the woods.