Random Reflection After Walking the Hall of Mosses Trail (November 10 2020)

It is a rainy day this Monday, February 1, 2021 - so I thought I would pull out something I wrote last year also in the rain. After bundling up and listening to my friend give me a guided prompt before walking in nature - I walked through taking in my surroundings more in my body and when I returned to the car - this is what I wrote.

Random Writing - November 10 2020

After walking in Hoh Rainforest - Hall of Mosses Trail

Oh what a way to start my day - but ultimately it worked out. Listening to Braiding Sweetgrass AGAIN - gosh, what is it about her that I find so nourishing. As a white women, should I be triggered about her talk of the indigenous ways. I don’t think I could be. Having been fascinated about it as a kid. Wishing to know some of the wild, feelings so drawn to nature as it seems the place I can really just be - soft, quiet, curious, awakening my senses - letting my different senses take in the sights and smells - I’ve done this short loop hike a lot of times. A quick jaunt into the canopy of green and towering trees and roots and rocks and mushrooms and lichen and mosses, with slugs and birds and bugs - all of these a welcome invitation to step in and immerse. I love the small seedlings nestled in the nooks and crannies of the larger trees. It makes we want to re-read the Secret World of Trees or something like that - the talk of the interconnectedness - so weird to here Thoreau talk  - using the language of his day but also telling us to look at nature in a deeper way - I love Robin’s lilting voice - telling me how the world is symbolic - reciprocity - how things live and die and live - cyclical in moderation in support of each other how amazing if that could be the case for us in the world as well. Softening, listening , I felt the warmth coming from the roots of the tree I stopped to touch and ask if I could be welcomed in - could I see? The veil lifted - I cried because I felt the pain - the pain of the forest being ripped from its land - the pain of humans tramping through this trail - some curious, some destructive and ultimately the trail may be off limits as the side of the hill could cascade into the gently babbling brook with ducks and wrens and sparrows - the squirrel appeared in the midst of a snack - unperturbed by my presence - a gift to remind me to stay present - look and listen - get me out of my own head - my ego - my stories - look at what is around me - what am I surrounded by? What can I see? What am I called to do? I feel that environmental pull so much. Maybe it rivals the social justice. Because ultimately without a world to live in - how can we be in harmony with humanity if our home is gone? I love this idea that I - a white woman can become native to this land - learn from indigenous people - as an immigrant - learn to love the land and help it thrive and survive. I love the small ways I can see how Kimmerer talks about here in the Rainforest. I want to learn more about nature - look listen smell feel and taste it around me and find out how it can thrive - I watched the logging trucks today and my heart sank - more of our forest to go to building - it puts food on people’s tables and jobs but it also makes our world a little more precarious the pendulum swings - realizing that too for one way is not good we do have to live but how do we adopt a way to be in partnership with nature? Reciprocity - abundance rather than scarcity?

I love the sound of the rain - pitter patter pitter patter pitter patter thump thump thump drip drop

I love the smell of the forest - earthy dirt leaves decay sweet and pungent but not too heavy - light

I love the colors - all shades of green, interspersed with browns, yellows, reds, oranges, whites and cream

I love the sound of chirp chirp and tweet tweet

I love the feel of water smooth at my boot - the mud tugging my foot the soft feel of pine carpet and leaves cushioning my foot as it walks - the slick and beautiful rocks and gravel the gnarled root coming up from the ground to remind me to pay attention where my feet step and fall.

The textures of fallen branches sharp and smooth the feel of the soft most and the bark of the tree both rough and slick and wet and smooth from the rain yet keeping the tree from rot or decay - protective around but allowing the nourishment of the rain to seep in through the deep roots and the water in the bark sustaining the life of mushroom spores - protected in the grooves yet allowed just enough light and water to thrive.