In The Words Of Henry David Thoreau

One of the sure signs that spring has arrived is the appearance of daffodils with their brilliant yellow blooms.   These beautiful daffodils were found on an abandon property along the Southwood Road.   It the warm weather continues, the spring wild flowers will soon be appearing.   Certainly one of my favourite subjects to photograph! - Photo by Fred Schulz

THE JOYS OF SOLITUDE AND NATURE - THE INVIGORATION OF THE SENSES

     "THIS IS A DELICIOUS EVENING, WHEN THE WHOLE BODY IS ONE SENSE, AND IMBIBES DELIGHT THROUGH EVERY PORE. I GO AND COME WITH A STRANGE LIBERTY IN NATURE, A PART OF HERSELF. AS I WALK ALONG THE STONY SHORE OF THE POND IN MY SHIRT SLEEVES, THOUGH IT IS COOL AS WELL AS CLOUDY, AND WINDY, AND I SEE NOTHING SPECIAL TO ATTRACT ME, ALL THE ELEMENTS ARE UNUSUALLY CONGENIAL TO ME. THE BULLFROGS TRUMP TO USHER IN THE NIGHT, AND THE NOTE OF THE WHIPPOORWILL IS BORNE ON THE RIPPLING WIND FROM OVER THE WATER. SYMPATHY WITH THE FLUTTERING ALDER AND POPLAR LEAVES, ALMOST TAKES AWAY MY BREATH; YET LIKE THE LAKE, MY SERENITY IS RIPPLED BUT NOT RUFFLED. THESE SMALL WAVES RAISED BY THE EVENING WIND ARE AS REMOTE FROM STORM AS THE SMOOTH REFLECTING SURFACE. THOUGH IT IS NOW DARK, THE WIND STILL BLOWS AND ROARS IN THE WOOD, THE WAVES STILL DASH, AND SOME CREATURES LULL THE REST WITH THEIR NOTES. THE REPOSE IS NEVER COMPLETE. THE WILDEST ANIMALS DO NOT REPOSE, BUT SEEK THEIR PREY NOW; THE FOX AND SKUNK, AND RABBIT, NOW ROAM THE FIELDS AND WOODS WITHOUT FEAR. THEY ARE NATURE'S WATCHMEN, LINKS WHICH CONNECT THE DAYS OF ANIMATED LIFE."

     I HAVE THIS WRITTEN OUT, ON A PIECE OF PAPER POSTED ABOVE MY DESK; THE PAPER YELLOWED AND RIPPED, BUT CONTAINING THE MOST IMPORTANT PARAGRAPH, WHICH TO ME, IS AN ENDURING SOURCE OF DAILY INSPIRATION; ESPECIALLY WHEN AT TIMES, THE VIEW FROM HERE, HAS SEEMED DULL AND UNREMARKABLE……TIME FULL OF TURMOIL AND ANTICIPATION. THESE ARE THE WORDS CONTAINED IN THE CHAPTER, "SOLITUDE," AS WRITTEN BY LEGENDARY AMERICAN AUTHOR, HENRY DAVID THOREAU, IN HIS WELL LOVED BOOK, "WALDEN AND CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE."

     I CAME UPON THOREAU'S WORK QUITE BY ACCIDENT. IT WAS ONE OF THOSE ACCIDENTS, THAT HAD A GOOD AND POSITIVE SIDE, AND CAME AT THE RIGHT TIME IN MY LIFE TO BE APPRECIATED.

I FOUND THE BOOK IN A BOX GIVEN TO MY MOTHER

     When I was finishing up high school, in Bracebridge, I had some concerns about what field I would major in, when attending university. I didn't have a clue. I was interested in history and english, but I really didn't see myself becoming a teacher. I was too impatient. Too impulsive. I was above all, claustrophobic. Being confined to a classroom, was like being nailed into a coffin each day. And most important, I had hated school every year I had been enrolled, from grade one onward. Although family and friends thought I'd make a decent teacher, or possibly a professor, I was thinking more along the lines of "country philosopher," or a "bard," although I was pretty sure this wouldn't have been a very profitable pursuit. I was in a quandary because university was expensive, and I needed to make a wise investment in my courses of study. So I started to read more, in an attempt to loosen the old noggin, in order to consider all the possibilities….all the pertinent points of view. I have always felt writers knew about universal, philosophical stuff I needed to know, which explains why I have been drawn to books for most of my life.

     My mother picked up a bag of books someone had left in the laundry room, of our apartment building, and she found some titles that appealed to her reading interests, and even retrieved one for me……and yes, it was my strange, rather unremarkable introduction to Henry David Thoreau. From the laundry room to my room. So it seemed like a worthwhile book to invest some time, and I even took it to work with me, for lunch-time reading. I was working as a shipper /driver at Building Trades Centre, in Bracebridge, where my father Ed was manager. I used to take small deliveries out to cottage properties, around the lakes, and on occasion, I'd have to wait for a contractor or owner to show up at the site, to sign for the delivery. I wasn't allowed to leave an order without a signature. So I had a lot of time out in the woods. So this day, I decided to take the book along, because I knew there was a good chance, I was going to be spending some quality time out in the bush waiting. Other drivers had warned me about this job, and the contractor, who was missing in action a lot. I wasn't wrong.

     I remember going to this particular property on Healey Lake, just off the Fraserburg Road, (in Bracebridge), and having to wait more than an hour and a half, for the contractor to return from lunch. The small cottage was only missing the siding and the windows, of which I had some of both in the back of the truck. It was raining and I hated the idea of sitting in the truck for however long it was going to take, for someone to arrive back on site. So I wandered over to the cottage, with my book under my arm, and sat down just inside the front door, with my feet slung out on top of the first step, of the unfinished verandah. It was a beautiful setting, and the sound of the light rain on the leaves was so relaxing, yet strangely alluring at the same time. It was a contradiction as such; being an exciting solitude. A very inspirational place to spend time in contemplation. I contemplated a lot back then…..as my preparation for becoming a modern day philosopher…..which I actually thought was a profession.

     After enjoying the scene for twenty minutes or so, I began delving into the world this author had made at Concord's Walden Pond. Why were his observations so revered? What did he know of life and times that I didn't? What did nature mean to him? So for the better part of the next hour, I read my first chapters of "Walden Pond" and quickly understood how astute an observer he had been, in his era, and in his region of the hinterland. It was at times, as if Thoreau himself, was sitting beside me, on this doorless portal onto the nature of Muskoka. The lake in behind, through a second open door, looked like shattered glass, with the fall of rain rippling its silver surface. I was sensing Walden Pond, even though, regionally, it was South Muskoka, in the Province of Ontario. I could actually see the point he was making via the book he wrote. This was the visual beyond the print, and his words rang true to what was happening around me, in this din of natural sounds and myriad occurrences of insects, birds, and animals. It was a gentle occasion, but it was electric at the same time, with so much going on…..deer leaping down the road, a beaver coming up from the lowland, and fish breaking the surface of the lake, lunging for the flies that hovered over its surface. It was as if he had opened a door for me, to see the true philosophy of unfettered nature……all from a perch above the thriving ferns beneath, and the evergreens making up the border of the country lane. The scene was remarkable because I was seeing it, in company of a true country philosopher. Even though I had always been a wanderer in nature, resorting to the woods and lakeland whenever possible, often with canoe and paddle, I witnessed something on this day, that I can only relate to, what David Grayson, once wrote, of an opening of the closed mind, to see to the horizon and beyond, in the universality of personal discovery. I couldn't claim, to having become a scholar in the works of Thoreau, after reading only several chapters, but it became a heavily relied upon book that I came to latch onto, to explain my own deepening interests in rural philosophy, and engaging nature to suit my wild wanderlust. My mother gave me a head start in the domain of philosophy, when she handed me this discard book, of which I have never been separated from, in spirit, since that spring day back in 1973.

     This simple passage, that is posted by my desk, reminds me of that occasion, sitting in the doorway of a half finished Muskoka cottage, with the good company of Mr. Thoreau, at least in spirit. In some ways, it was my awakening to the possibilities that I could become a country philosopher after all……if however, I didn't measure the success of this career move, by the amount of money pocketed at the end of each week. My parents wanted me to be a teacher. A succession of wonderful girlfriends and male chums, bet I would become a teacher. I became a writer instead, and a sort of country philosopher on account of Henry David Thoreau…..and a book I consider my country bible. The pay sucks but the dividends are perpetually enlightening. All I have to do, is wander over to the adjacent woodlands, here at Birch Hollow, to regain my passion for discovery…..because I never return home, that I can honestly say, I didn't find anything to fascinate me. I could write a book about these "fascinations," with nature…..never once requiring an "app" to make the connection.

     Thank you for taking a little time today, with the good Mr. Thoreau and me……always in your debt, for your faithful visitations.