A Forest Hike

On Friday I went for a hike with people from the Eugene Zendo along a trail near the headwaters of the McKenzie River, about two hours from Eugene. The forest there is old growth. There were still patches of snow, the temperature around forty, and patches of sun. The dominant trees were fir, cedar, and hemlock and along the river many alder and maples. We lunched about 75 feet above a lake formed where the river comes out of the ground after a volcanic eruption buried it. The river runs free above the lake, but we didn't go that far. We were totally alone in an environment free (save the trail) of human intervention. The richness of life was everywhere and that richness included old snags, trees uprooted, and new saplings. Maples and alders grew out of the rocks and the only sound was the river, roaring down on its way, oblivious to us. The trees live and die as do the birds, insects, and animals of the forest.

So what is life all about? On Friday it was indifferent to me and my likes and dislikes and to my notions of how things should be.

When I got home in the late afternoon Catherine showed me a mass of chicken feathers on our patio, some with blood on them. One chicken was missing. I was very upset. Later we checked all around our place and found the partially eaten carcass of the hen and we took it to the garden and buried it. Two months ago we had a hen die of illness. She too is buried there in the garden. Right now we have six chicks rapidly growing into laying hens. This is what life is about and there is a majesty to it and in that majesty is sadness for the passings and joy for what is coming. And it is all there happening now, moment by moment, beyond my comprehension.

Skunk Cabbage

I was out for a walk at dusk yesterday evening and got to thinking about the difference between living in the country and living in the city. The human scale out here is small and as I enjoyed the sounds and sights at dusk the human made element was almost non-existent. The only sounds in the chilled air were the birds calling out to each other from the tall trees around me, trees that were becoming silhouettes in the darkening sky. I get a sense of “so this is the world outside me head.”

Earlier I went exploring one of my favorite places out in the woods, maybe a quarter of a mile away. This place is where a spring comes out of the hill and becomes a creek that runs down the hill where it eventually flows into the Long Tom river. Most of the trees around here are Douglas fir, but at the spring there are wonderful old maples and alders. From a distance you can tell you are near the spring because you can here the water. Right now water is coming out of the hills all over, the ground is totally saturated from our recent snow and rains. When I got to the spring I saw one of the most wonderful display of skunk cabbage in bloom. And all around was a lot of bleeding heart and trillium waiting for their turn to bloom. As I looked out the thought “so this is what life is all about” arose and a feeling of gratitude arose. Feeling completely satiated I walked home through the woods.

Being in the natural world does so much to put things in perspective and the quiet opens me to seeing and hearing what is all around me and this gives rise to feelings of gratitude.

Today we had hail, the temperature hasn't gone much over 40, I showed Catherine the skunk cabbage, and we got some new chicks. Later we'll have our Wednesday evening sitting group with dinner, sitting, and dharma discussion. It sure seems that this is what life is all about.