paisleypiper's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- night in the woods Night in the Woods Part of the reason camping is so exhausting is because we really work to have the best of both worlds. After a long evening around the campfire, drinking beer, roasting marshmallows, we finally shuffled off to our tents. Megan had successfully roasted an entire s�more, one of the outstanding camping accomplishments, and her boyfriend Christian had serenaded us all on the jaw harp � not to be confused with the mouth harp. Freddie, Quinn�s nephew, took to Christian�s bongo drums, quickly. The two of them had an interesting jam session during which Freddie interspersed some scratching on the drum�s surface with his rhythmic tapping. Freddie exudes style in quantities that seem too great for an eleven-year-old, and I must admit that I have a special fondness for him. Freddie has his own light, rather more like a tractor beam, and ranges from being incredibly emotionally intelligent and mature to being quite silly and funny. But he is always Freddie. Quinn�s mother tried to get us to go around the circle and tell about our worst job. We only got to Quinn�s brother before we all began expressing the deja vu we were feeling. When she suggested that we tell about our best job, no one really contributed. Somehow best and job were not fitting together. And it is a struggle enough to leave the job back in the city or suburbs, with the home and the long list of things to do. That night was just about sitting around the fire, seeing what would burn and in an interesting way. Talking about bugs and birds. Christian thrilled us all with a factual account of why vultures have no feathers on their heads and why their necks are shaped with a little crook. I don�t know that I have sat around a campfire without saying or hearing the word carcass. No one talked about ghosts or goblins or scary wood events. When we all quieted down in our many tents which formed a half-circle around the campfire, only spread out a good distance, it was as though the universe turned up the volume of the woods. Every hour that went by, the nature sounds increased. It resembles little of the sounds of nature cd�s for relaxation. Words like din, racket, raucous, and screeching come to mind. Then, the coyotes had their evening. And what an evening it was. They did not even sound to me like coyotes but rather more like a bunch of senior-citizen women on acid making sacrifices to Echo during the deep of the night in the dark woods. The owls regulated the action and swarms of other insect raucous and nocturnal bird calls presented a barrier of sound between me and sleep. Our tent as slightly downhill and there was a tree root, which seemed like nothing in the afternoon, but certainly began making its presence known. Our camp-mates were snatching bits of sleep here and there, but everyone was up at least once, so in a group of 12, that makes for a continual progression to the secret bathroom and the manmade sound of tent zippers firing off to greet the noises of the natural world, somewhere around the fire, which was still smoking. I could see it through the window of the tent, sending a tall column of smoke which something seemed to be drawing up directly through a portal in the canopies of the surrounding trees. I don�t know that anyone goes camping for a great night�s sleep. The noise, the chill, the distant stars all invade the mind. It is so much more powerful and determined than the things I can control, so it is peaceful to just relax into the moment. I look upon it as laying myself out before nature, and letting that magical sensation happen of nature moving her wand over me, refreshing my spirit. Transporting me to places ancient and distant, far away from my small cares of job and school and binder assembly. Although it is true that I need to attend to these things, I also need to be reminded how much larger the universe is than me. And how exciting, dramatic, beautiful, inspiring, weird and chaotic the universe is all the time and all at once. I can understand all of the various cultural associations with the woods. How they can represent evil or experience or temptation. Why it is that in the great myths and legends, people go off to the woods for their affairs of the body and heart. Also, why the woods are where the attendant spirits reside, the spirit of the wood, and where witches gather secret ingredients for their potions and work their spells. What luxury to go and lay right next to it, on a nice patch of maintained grass, in a nice little tent with a snugly sleeping bag. It never fails to rub off on me a little bit. 11:03 p.m. - 2002-09-29 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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