Nature’s Cloak

Here’s this week’s reflection. I hope it resonates with you and ask that, if you enjoyed, please comment and share on your social media. Heartfelt thanks for all your support!

Keeping the light on for you,

Carol

“Go play outside,” my mother (not-so-gently) directs my brother and me. Once outside, we scamper across the yard, slipping into the protective canopy of the woods. This is no ordinary forest. This is the land of freshwater springs, well-worn foot paths, and mystery. Our secrets are safe here as boughs bend their acknowledgement and leaves rustle their understanding. This is our world and ours alone: to wander and ponder and where —with our eldest brother already grown and ensconced in adult life— my next older sibling and I are still learning the ropes. 

This adjacent pocket of woods connects our house to those of cousins and neighbors – all via an established highway of foot paths and intersections. The origin of this leafy freeway is unclear, but no matter: its utility is right up a kid’s alley. From hide and seek to mud ball fights (and scaring little sisters with tiny freshwater crabs), this playground always inspires.  

At its center is Mother Nature’s “conference room” of tangled vines and tree limbs. Having grown down, around in perfect conical fashion around a tree trunk, a teepee-esque “room” has artfully formed over the years. With dirt floor and pint-sized entry, the perceived snarl of foliage offers the perfect verdant cloak against bright sun, snow, or misty rain. Here, in what we call “our fort,” my brother and I (and few select kin) share stories, hopes, fears, and dreams. 

***

And now, through adult eyes peering across the span of decades, our citadel seems more a warm cloak – a softly encircling, yet strongly protective tapestry against the realities of youth. 

I have vivid memories and immense gratitude for this enchanted “room.” It offered solace, a temperate respite from the elements, school, homework, and chores. Looking skyward through Mother Nature’s random grillwork also offered an artistic perspective of the realm far above the everyday reality of a child. Clouds passed leisurely and so did time when in our special spot.  

We spent a lot of time traversing those paths and inhabiting our foliage fortress. It offered the conduit of connection across seasons for us rural kids. But what it provided most of all was imaginative play – a concept often lacking today. In those woodlands we were the creators of our own grand destinies and delusions. Our minds were free to roam, explore, and act out whatever we wished. Our only limitation: be back home by suppertime. Kids today should be so lucky. 

As with all good things, the end of our enchantment occurred when a random thief used our paths to get to, and rob, a home further down our hill. Our kingdom was suddenly off limits out of parental concern. Our coveted world vaporized as we were no longer permitted to traverse what was once our sacred ground. Our enchanted forest now bore the cloak of trepidation, sabotage, and darkness.

Not long afterward, my family moved south, away from the protective mantle of our childhood. While excited for a new sunny locale, I found myself missing the fostering coolness of a northern wood, a longing that would interestingly nag at me for years. While my brother made peace with southern climes, I always harbored some reservation. Yes, there are beautiful places everywhere throughout our great land. But what made my heart sing loudest was the feeling of rich dark earth and cool, shady hardwoods during our occasional revisits north. 

As life happens, my husband and I were moved back north due to vocations. As luck would have it, our home now abuts private woods, complete with gloriously tangled trees and vines. And while I have not come across an official fort in these here parts, their well-established community paths pacify me just as in earlier years. Serendipity has delivered me full circle, and I endeavor to continue my gratitude for such a gift. 

Nature’s cloak still protects me, literally and metaphorically. Northern woods will always soothe and return me to childhood. If I stumble upon a room formed of tangled vines, all the better! I’ll always be on the hunt for such a place. And if the entry happens to be adult-sized, I will surely wander in to sit a spell….and reminisce.