May 20, 2024
Primal Chord
When I woke up, the light on the alarm clock was just getting bright, but my wife was nowhere to be found. I stood up out of bed and stumbled into the living room, where I found her sleeping on the couch, barely covered by a small blanket. She had moved in the middle of the night because I was snoring, something I hadn’t done in a while. One look at her face told me everything I needed to know. She didn’t sleep well, and she was exhausted.
We sipped down some hot coffee, sitting together on her makeshift bed. She wasn’t mad at me. She never was. But, I still felt bad for interrupting her sleep. When it was time for her to go, I helped her carry her things out to the car and then wiped down her windows and mirrors. We said goodbye, and she drove off. I would miss her, but she planned on coming back this afternoon. It would be nice to have her home on a Monday evening.
I went for my morning walk in the woods. Along the trails, in the soft dirt, several hoof prints from deer showed they were using the trails we cleared. I was happy they were taking advantage of our hard work. In the grove, where I usually saw two eastern gray squirrels, I noticed a friend had joined them. The three squirrels ran in circles, chasing each other, finally racing up a tall pine.
The forest floor was still damp, but things were finally drying out after the area received a healthy amount of rain. With the forecast calling for several sunny days, I was happy that all the moisture would soon be gone. The front and back yards, as well as the pasture, all needed mowing. The grass needed to dry first, so it wouldn’t bog down the mower by clumping on the blades and undercarriage.
In the feeding area on the north end of the grove, I saw all the deer corn was gone. The camera in the area still showed the pregnant deer with their bulging bellies. Any day now, there would be new fawns bedded down in the forest. The property here was a relatively safe place to bring up the fawns. There were, however, several coyotes and large bobcats that passed through the property.
Even though the sun had been up for over an hour, the frogs at the creek were still singing. Usually, they were all quiet by now. I found the sound calming, like white noise playing, or croaking rather, in the background. In a deep pool on the creek’s northwest corner, there was a swirl in the murky water. One of the large turtles that lived here was probably moving around under the surface.
It was an enjoyable morning in the woods. The time I spent in the forest before work calibrated my pace, slowing me down, but keeping me moving. On the mornings that I could not get out to walk, I noticed my mind felt like it was racing. Nature always spoke to me during my morning walks, demonstrating all she had accomplished without a sense of hurry. Time in the forest moved slowly, but it never halted. This morning, I wanted to stay out longer, but a busy workday lied ahead. I made my way back to the house, showered, and dove into my work. I was out Friday for a dental appointment and I knew there was plenty of catching up to do.
When my lunch break rolled around, I drove to the Piggly Wiggly in Bailey to pick up some food for dinner. I grabbed some frozen steak fries and two nicely marbled ribeyes. This evening, I planned on preparing dinner for my wife, so she could get to bed early and catch up on the sleep she missed last night. When I arrived back home, I still had a half hour before work started, so I sat outside on the back porch practicing with my camera. I changed some of my autofocus settings, so I wanted to see how the adjustments would affect the camera’s performance. I also called my mother to wish her a happy birthday.
My wife arrived about ten minutes after I finished work. I immediately got busy prepping dinner so we could eat early. Within thirty minutes, we had a hearty meal of perfectly cooked ribeyes, steak fries, and sliced watermelon. We ate inside the house, talking at the table, catching up on our day’s events. After dinner, my wife sent me out for last light, even though I had planned to do the dishes first. She knew I hadn’t taken a break after work and how much I loved being in the forest. I made her promise that she would leave the dishes for me to wash, and I headed out the front door with my camera.
When I entered the forest, the sun was still well above the horizon. Despite the shade in the grove, the bright light from the cloudless sky offered enough illumination for shooting photos. The ground was damp, but drier than it was this morning. It was going to be a beautiful evening, and the frogs that had stayed up late this morning were out early tonight. Their loud croaks reverberated through the woods.
When I arrived on the far side of the grove, I looked east into an empty crop field and saw a deer grazing. The deer watched me from a safe distance while I snapped a few photos. All the attention made her shy, and she turned northwest and bolted at full speed, jumping over the tall grasses with every stride. I caught her escape on video. After she left, I reviewed the footage through my camera’s electronic viewfinder. It was a good catch, and I felt lucky to have been in the right place at the right time, with the right camera and lens.
I really loved living out in the woods. Today, work was busy and kept me glued to my chair. After work, I prepared and ate dinner with my wife. After all the busyness, I was ready for a break, and within ten minutes of walking outside, I had captured videos and photos that most people had to travel to obtain. Life in the woods was good for me. It was reinvigorating to roam among the wild things and capture my life experiences. I enjoyed revisiting these special moments, and I felt obligated to share them with others who could not see them with their own eyes. This was nature, our world, a clear picture of reality, the environment’s reflection of who we were. After all, we weren’t just birthed in nature. Nature created us.
I moved north along the trail toward the creek. Ahead of me, through the trees, I saw a whitetail buck moving quietly. I couldn’t see its entire shape, only flashes of fur and the random lines that made up the deer’s silhouette as it floated through the trees. There was no better way to experience a deer’s presence than being in the forest with them. You might not see the beautiful animal in its entirety, but your commingling was something that struck a primal chord. This animal, and its lineage, made up the large game that provided sustenance to our ancestors. These animals were a part of our survival, a part of our history; a part of us.
When I arrived home, my wife had already cleaned the kitchen. She sent me off to shower and, after; I crawled into bed feeling thankful for the day’s experiences.