Brycescribe’s Weblog

Pilgrimage July 2, 2008

This evening at twilight I went to Armstrong Woods to unkink from spending most of the day at the computer. During my walk and run on the loop trail I felt exhilarated, and at moments blown away that I was doing it — I’ve told friends that this new enjoyment of running is proof that I’ve been taken over by pod people.

I stopped at the Armstrong tree, and the plaque honoring Colonel Armstrong, who had the foresight in the 19th century to preserve this remarkable grove for all of us. I still get chills every time I read it, amazed at this gift. This old-growth sanctuary could have been logged out, over a hundred years ago. It reminds me that one person’s vision and choices can affect the lives of more people than most of us ever consider.

The tree named for him towers above me — it’s 14 and a half feet in diameter, and to see the top of it you have to back off several feet. I’ve done this many times, for years now, and each time I experience reverence. I wondered if it would work this time, as I went into the forest half-knowing I’d write about it — had that hint of negative expectation, as when you worry that a pet won’t perform a trick, now that someone else is watching. Right there, in the forest, with the trees, I’m taken in reverence.

This is what I’m here for, if for no other reason other than to be present, and to open to this sense of connection with all that lives. To hold existence in gratitude. The simple joy of writing, and the gift of being in nature have filled me with happiness these past two days.

Part of the reason I go to that forest is the sense of peace and sanctuary. It has become a spiritual home to me. I was happy to have it to myself tonight. The pure peace of being in my breath under the trees, my body moving increasingly all of one piece as I push myself to run a little farther at each sprint — it stays with me and sustains me. And tonight, along with the warm comments on my first post, it inspired me to share it, take another step out of my hermitage. Namaste.