nature

Backyard Beauty

/ boz bozeman / Leave a comment

A long time ago, my wife and I were looking at a waterfall in a warm, exotic country. The falls were magnificent, yet she turned to me and asked “Is this any more beautiful than the waterfall we hike to at home?”

It’s still a good question. Yes, going to a foreign land and witnessing its grandeur adds to the power of the view. Yet I think it’s equally important to appreciate the beauty in our own communities, our own yards. Pay the money to go see all the beautiful sights of faraway places, but don’t neglect to appreciate the flowers that grow in our own small gardens.

The Fairy Door

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I made myself small. I had to fit through the fairy door.  

The door creaked on invisible hinges. There was a skittering, the sound of tiny feet running … away. At first, I thought they must be hiding, but when I heard a door slam, I knew that they were gone.  

I stepped in boldly. There was a light that came from nowhere but lit everything like dawn or early dusk. I looked behind me: the door was still open, but it framed only darkness, though I’d stepped over the threshold from daylight.  

It was hard not to be apprehensive, but there was no obvious threat. I realized that I was in a storeroom. Tiny jars lined the walls. I got closer, almost expecting garish figures in formaldehyde, but this was not a horror movie scene. 

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Cleaning up in the Forest

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I have often entered the woods carrying my burdens like a heavy backpack. The first part of my hike is spent thinking, pondering, stressing. Replaying problems or anticipating future roadblocks. Sometimes my thoughts are in a tangle, others they are firmly focused on the issue I am dealing with. 

Yet, as I step along, Anna trotting ahead of me, my worries begin to dissipate. Sometimes I have arrived at the solution, but many times my concerns are tread into the path, taken in by the trees. Like they turn carbon into oxygen, the leaves filter my thoughts until I am left with peace. 

I have brought some pretty serious problems with me into the forest, but I can’t remember one time that I left without feeling some relief, some belief that I will figure it out and things will be OK. At times, I am even given an epiphany.

The woods come with many gifts, but their ability to soothe, to take me in and change me, is one that I reverence always. I often say my thanks out loud to the trees: the best I can do to repay them for this free service.  

If you like my writing, you should check out my book: Tao of Thoreau