Picture of the Day

Last night I stumbled, yet again, upon some of those rare crazy cave trolls that have been popping up as of late. Approach with caution and never look them in the eye. Word on the street they are fond of trail magic and echoing cave acapellas.

Types of People in this World

There's only 3 types of people in this world:

Those who can count, and those who can't.



Wise words heard from Ivan.

the Overlap (another poem)

The overlap between these dreams and reality dance in that small area between where the wave breaks and the water recedes

somewhere lost in the midst of a little child

the water rushes by

rushing by before pulling back as toes slowly sink, covered by the itching grains of tumbling sands caught in the middle

what is real

and what are dreams other than these inside burnings and yearnings manifested like moths for heat to the fire

what is it about the edge that pulls us closer
repels us further from the nonsense
the white noise
pulling us ever so snugly by the tips of our thoughts and antennae into the unknown and
that hazy cough of distant possibility

i am stuck in between

the sun is setting upon the end of the wilderness generation

and rising upon a new millennium
the circus of electronic essence and mechanical mimicry

of global dimming, global warming
a new set of deadly sinning while concrete wolves are suavely swarming

an unfamiliar ecotone where the niche is paved for greed

yet hope eases into the scene overlooked by many
not taken seriously by most
awaiting

awaiting, the chance to rise

but my feet are stuck now and the tide is rising
the pull is stronger and efficient profit is downsizing

while my neighbors lose their jobs their kids play with plastic toys made in a land so far away

their minds etch and mold the paths for little toy cars like some twisted voodoo as we all drive more
and more
and more

inevitably, for fate or boredom, into that head on collision crash

the overlap between these dreams and reality dance almost smoothly and precariously too close on the razor of denial and acceptance.

When all is lost, new roads open (another poem for the confusing new milennium)

When all is lost
New roads open
perception shifts
and the veil surlely lifts
to a view anew
for what is life but a stream and a rift
an open ocean on a skiff
the nutrient spiral
how we spill
out the days of our lives
hungry bees in clumsy hives
i can feel it from my bronchial branches to my roots
the tipping point between man and nature

we became less than human
when we treated sisters and brothers less
like people
and more like commodity
pieces of the economy
the fall impaled us on treason's steeple
our detachment from everything real
is similar to a moral lobotomy
how does it feel
to live in the age of unreason

no more rhymes to the season
the great homeostasis debate
where we love to decreate
and regress under the facade of progress
and recreate sanity's gait
Will we come together as communities
and stand up before its too late?
when all is lost
new roads open
but not always taken

my dreams are slightly shaken
by these visions of tomorrow
burning incisions of sorrow
of what apathy and consumption have done to us
the concrete jungle and the rat race's fuss
transnational chain stores
nothing but plastic conversations
dirty economy exchanges
this new language of commerce
another of history's crazy crazy pages

when all is lost
new roads open
perception shifts
awaiting the resistance
the sun again slowly sets

What, oh what, will become of tomorrow?

lack of Wonder(ment)

I so often overlook the simple joys of life, the subtle foundations of our surroundings that have become engrained so heavily they are ignored. For instance, the simple thrill of walking outside. We so often enter 'outside' only as a means to move to another location, be it a vehicle, a restaurant, a friend's house, grocery store, or place of employment.

But have you ever seen a child's face light up upon asking him or her if they would like to go outside. It is a place of mystery and intrigue. A place full of color and lack of symmetry. A place full of sounds and actions, whether it be wind waving through tall grass, clouds morphing and moving, birds singing and soaring, or frogs croaking and jumping

These things are all full of amazement and awe to a child, as they should be to us all, but to us they hold little or no value normally. Why? Because they do not better us immediately? Because they do not enhance us? I would argue they do, but many people would argue I am silly for thinking that. Watching a bald eagle swoop into a mighty estaurine river pulling its slick fishy meal out has done much for me as a person.

What is this lack of wonder that has swept upon us?

A generation of disengaged, detached people who would rather check their email or watch repeats than watch the reality of our surroundings. A nonstop show that has become so seperated from us. Such a strange idea. To become seperate from the outdoors. Seperate from the Earth. But what could be farther from the truth. Our houses and cars are made to be climate controlled boxes keeping us as content as possible no matter what the outside environment throws at us.

Refuge from refuge. Refuge from the community of life. To enter the community of takers. What a strange, strange bunch we have become. And at the heart of this crux, this strange fork in the path of rationality, where the rubber meets the road, reeking and seeping from the pores of consciousness, inhabits the lowing and growing lack of wonder.

Pondering the Trail

The trail brings us together, the trail pulls us apart. It conjures up thoughts we have forgotten we have, it conjures up thoughts we never had. It forces us to think outside our comfort, it forces us to be alive. It wakes up these senses, it wakes up these dreams, it rips away the unknown, and reminds us beauty is as wide as our minds and as curvilinear as our smiles.

What it is to feel genuine, sincere being. How it tickles the soul and bubbles deep within my blood, reawakening this great love we have just waiting to be released. I shall be released, I shall dance to the melody of nature, and I shall let this mountain stream flow deep into my veins until I know not the difference between my mother and my mother, for they are the same.

We are all the same, the spider and the fly, clouds and the sea, men and women, sun and moon, bird and flower, day and night, for we all breathe the same air and drink the same water. We are all connected, we are all one, and the trail helps me remember that important atavistic truth lost deep in our marrow, deep in the spiral of life, deep within the sounds of the forest.

Listen to the whisper of truth breathing softly into our ears, listen to the vibrations of this sweet, short life. They are the only thing constant. They are all that is real. And the only thing that is real is the only thing that is constant, love and change, change and love.

The beautiful stream of life wafts into my body lifting my spirit from the ground to the other realm of being. To the calm, the flow, the peace that instills the always present wisdom into my consciousness. it consumes, it consumes all. The drug of life, the ultimate high, lingering in the air, just waiting to be inhaled and realized. Just waiting to be, waiting to be, just like me.

Only Room to Grow

No memories, just lost in between dreams

of love and clouds and rain and awakening

This blur of now never ceases

the endless creases of this sphere that is home

the nucleus

the void that is most of the atom

Why can't this space be seen in its overriding existence

But there is no emptiness

only room to grow

No fear

Only time to sow the seeds of these long lost dreams

All is one yet lonliness dictates so many actions

We all act but there are no actors, no stage

Just the passing days of age and laughs and the stories

that become wrinkles, nostalgic smiles, and nightmares

No memories, just dreams of what was

Funny thing about the past

The feeling of detachment, tolerance, of another life

Each day is nothing but another life.

There is no emptiness

only room to grow.

Balance Beams Seem Easy on TV

It is the search for beauty that pulls me away from civilization, and it is that same search that pulls me back.

The wilderness refills my soul, recharging my existence, but it is a lonely trail, my heart and mind grow weary after a time, and then it is the smile of friends and beauty of a woman that call me back. The irony, of course, is how this same yearning, or a very similar one, pulls me away.

There is no balance, only the overarching swing of wanted homeostasis, that thing we never quite reach and always aim for, inevitably overshooting into the edge of sanity and serenity.

But it is that edge where memories are made and lives change forever, it is that zone of uncertainty where shooting stars are seen and dreams come to be. Where the magic happens, transcendence is close enough to touch and feel, and the blood pumping through this finite body finally feels alive. What is life but the search for these rare moments that are the ebb and flow of our transient and shining lives.

Flower power

Since I was a bit hesitant to start this thing it wasn't up during peak wildflower bloom during the last month, but I have some documentation to prove its existence, memories of these flowers caught and captured and viewable to anyone, part of modern magic. Its all in the pixels. But here are a few of my favorite shots of some flowers seen recently.


Probably my favorite flower, they grew everywhere behind our pods at basecamp. Pods are little simple cabin structures cut in half so a person stays in each half. But these flowers love rich, moist woods and/or a rocky substrate, and we have caves and rock right behind us so its the perfect habitat for the beautiful Wild Columbine (Aquilegia canadensis).







And a shot from underneath exposing the flower parts.






There are plenty of flowers though, so lets move on. Here's a trout lilly (Erythronium americanum). American Indians used root tea for fevers and leaf poultice for stubborn ulcers. The root poultice was used to draw out splinters, reduce swelling. Water extracts are active against gram-positive and gram-negative bacteria. I find medicinal and nutritional uses of plants a fascinating subject and something I have just started to get into and can tell it will be a lifelong journey of exploration and much time will be needed to learn these and become experienced with them. Never ever eat something you don't know about, while many plants are beneficial many are also toxic, a defense mechanism to stay alive and not be eaten by animals, maybe because it is harder for them to reproduce or survive under the tree canopy. So don't go around eating random things, but find a good field guide and you can learn all about them. Some of this info comes from The Peterson Field Guide Series - A Field Guide to Medicinal Plants.

Fresh Start

I recently started working with the Appalachian Trail Conservancy, a great organization whose mission is to preserve and maintain the Appalachian Trail, one of the greatest footpaths and natural wildlife corridors we have stretching over two thousand miles between Georgia and Maine. But we'll get into that soon. I just finished Week 2 and have had a blast so far.

Spring is here in full effect, the flowers have been blooming for the past month, the trees are finally leafed out again, transforming the mountains back to their greenly state, and things are finally starting to heat up. During our break last week we came back to Blacksburg, the home away from home (basecamp is in Sugar Grove, Va, close to the Grayson Highlands and Mount Rogers, the tallest mountain in Virginia). It was a nice day so we decided to go visit the 2nd oldest river in the world, which is ironically enough labeled the New River.




















We soaked up the sun basking on some rocks out in the middle of the river while thousands and thousands of gallons of the nectar of life flowed and rippled by. The sound is that of serenity, and it was a nice recharge for sure.

Here's a cool shelf fungus alongside the river. I also saw my first two orioles up close as they flew down the river while dragonflies hovered above the water roving for food and fish swam by below, unaware and unamused, living their own lives inside their own little bubbles like we all sometimes tend to do. Nature can help restore that always needed refocusing of perception that keeps us fresh and aware of our actions and surroundings. A fresh start.

Besides restoration and reflection, recreation is another important aspect of the great outdoors that in all reality is nothing more than what is our home, yet in this modern age of technology we somehow detach ourselves from it and perceive it as something seperate from us. Nothing could be farther from the truth. That is a growing problem and until the societal mindset undergoes a paradigm shift we will continue to have some serious problems stemming from this and rippling into serious environmental impacts and catasrophies as will always occur when treating a finite system in an infinite manner.

But back to the matter at hand, recreation is an important aspect of nature, and Ted is doing that well as we tried floating down the rapids.

Testing

So I finally gave in and started a blog, seemingly the hottest fad to cross our path in the long line of glorious things to be a part of, like mullets, slap bracelets, and cell phones. But I am testing this thing out to get my bearings before any serious posting goes up. So...testing, testing, 1,2,3.

I assume this medium will mostly serve as a node for my naturalist sightings and random thoughts that flow through my consciousness from time to time, a place to keep them for my family and friends to see what I have been up to since I sometimes lag in keeping everyone up to date on my whereabouts and whathaveyous and recent activities. And with that, enjoy.