revisiting the land I had lost with my childhood
Looking for our Christmas tree this week; in the very act of hiking in the woods, in deep snow, over sleeping mounds of tucked in stumps and un-navigable stones, I became buoyant with energy. It was as though that sleeping child, which hides deep within all of us, was reawakened. As I wandered alone I became less aware of the tree I was supposed to be looking for, and more aware of a memory which I had forgotten. I was suddenly thinking of one of my favorite moments alone with my Dad. The woods behind our house lay as an open canvas until we had nearly outgrown it and the activity it provided children. In this, its uncharted-ness, my Dad and I ventured off, following the semblence of a trail; a hunters path; a deer road, perhaps. We walked for what felt like miles and though I can't recall exactly, I imagine that my Dad told me stories as we hiked. Maybe of the sea; stories which made me long to rock with the ocean, falling asleep to its sounds; maybe stories of his youth; storie...