Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Reflections of Autumn




The early light of dawn comes later and more muted, the morning air starts to contain a chill hinting of colder mornings to come. It is a time of year I find myself very busy with work requirements, Tara and the boys resuming school after the summer holiday, and knowing the day to day realities of our lives keep the mountains just out of reach for me for at least another month. My yearning to be amongst them and free is strong but I must content myself here for now.

I am not entirely sure why the mountains call so strongly to me in the autumn. There just seems to come a time when I have to go there to get away from myself out here. I always manage to arrange a visit sometime after my busy period ends, but unfortunately that usually coincides with the Roar. The Roar is when the Ruahine stags go into rut, claim a piece of mountain terrain, and fight for the right to gather and mate with the fertile hinds. Which means the mountains become the domain of the hunter for that month or so, seeking out these bellowing enraged large animals and perhaps even finding a trophy set of antlers. So the huts are more likely to be occupied, and for longer periods of time, than other times of the year. Though I have managed to avoid them in more than a few years, it is just a fact of life and I accept that. I also carry my tent.

In a vicarious way the hunters do not bother me so much. I used to be a hunter, and perhaps one reason I feel a need to roam in the fall are the memories which emerge deep within me at this time of year. Learning to walk in the forest, how to handle a weapon, how to hunt, the smell of gun oil and powder. Or just sitting in the woods on a still and quiet November morning waiting for a deer to walk by, but more so just relishing in the beauty of the woods. It never really mattered to me much if I actually shot a deer, rabbit, pheasant, or partridge. Eventually I just stopped hunting and began walking, and when I moved here it seemed just a natural progression to become a keen tramper. Yet part of me understands that urge. There is something very magical about walking on a clagged in Ruahine ridge, the track barely discernible ahead through the grey mist, and then to hear the bellowing roar of a stag down below somewhere in the head waters of a stream or deep in some steep bush clad gully, or even to SMELL them. It will make the hair on the back of your neck stand up.








Some of my most memorable walks have been done alone on these cold autumn days, when the cloud and mist shrouds the ranges like a grey cloak. While it takes away the panoramic view, it brings into very sharp focus the immediate view, the forest comes alive and trees sway and moan the mountain blues. And while it has taken many years to develop that cognizant recognition of the beauty in each step these walks always fill my soul with joy. The simple act of stopping on chilly day, if there is no great wind, to change a sweaty poly prop shirt for a fresh warm one, or simply putting on a warm jacket on a spot on the river while the billy boils and sitting down to enjoy a cup of tea by the river. A huge smile never seems to leave my face, there is always a song in my heart. I wish that were true out here in the world I inhabit most of the time. My friend Adam at Bloggenpucky recently wrote on his post from 15 Feb. words that really impacted me. " As we hiked, I collapsed to the Earth at the sound of a canyon wren. There were times I could not step three times without a stunned silent look, or a cameras shutter release. We were home. Why is it that (insert worldly beauty or wisdom) sounds, looks, or seems silly when put into the context of this place? Why is it that edicts of churches and states seem like the prattle of thin, pasty, drawn out old women when voiced under this sky? We had sung songs that sounded majestic within white plasterboard walls with curtain windows and they were now laughable or sad. We need to find a way that is as equally meaningful at home, in places of worship and labour, and in this wilderness. Our ideas ought to be in harmony and synergy with all these places in order for our species to find its home".

These words summed up so much for me, this battle I have between two worlds, or maybe more even than that, this battle I have at times with myself. I think I am arriving at a better place out here slowly, but oh how those mountains whisper to me. Adam's writing and photos can be found at : http://bloggenpucky.net/




My thoughts are somewhat fragmented lately. I again think of hunting. I never had to hunt in order to supply meat for our family, it was sport, challenge, and for me, a much deeper introduction to Nature. Having to be quiet and letting the Earth fold back in around me as I sat above a deer trail or tried to stalk as silently as I could through the fall woods. I wonder had I HAD to supply meat if I would have seen things the same way, or maybe I would known more and seen less if that makes sense. The point is if I had to supply meat now, I would, or at least I would try. I see little difference between killing a deer for its meat, than ripping open a package of steak or chicken, its death far removed from my conscience. But if I had to do that would I lose some of the reason for which I seek out the mountains?

Which for some other seemingly disjointed reason has me thinking of food. Many of the places I visit seem to be asking similar questions about these times we live in, how we relate to one another, to the Earth, to our food. Many, such as ourselves, have started small gardens, or already have large ones. Many are paying attention to the food we are eating, where we buy it, and how we prepare it and share it with our loved ones more than before. Perhaps a sign of these troubled economic times we are living in. We have started a small herb and tomato garden and for some time I have been attending our local Saturday morning farmers market and buying our weekly vegetables and fruit, and now chutneys and eggs. It has taken a wee while but our family is now eating healthier, the dinners may take longer but are filled with the real love of cooking we gladly share. Two things stand out to me over the past few weeks, one is that we seem more connected as a family, calmer and better organized, and secondly I have noticed the amount of trash we produce has been reduced to less than one council rubbish bag per week. Recycling paper, glass, plastic, tins, and card board we have been doing for years, but reducing the amount of packaging and plastic wrap quickly adds up to a big benefit. Maybe not much in the big scheme of things but hauling out that small bag of rubbish on pick up day gets my day off to a more satified start. Maybe there are benefits to these times of uncertainty we have not fully considered.








19 April 2006

Maropea Forks

Solo

The corker stove warms the hut quietly, rain bounces on the tin roof, I can hear the river as it mutters past outside. It was a magic walk down from Top Maropea, I almost felt outside myself as if watching my own self, I felt light and free. I came down river with no burdens, I shed those last night at Top Maropea, and I realized my fear of not Being Connected here was baseless. Shedding anger and pain and frustration has allowed me to feel something other than the thick fog of those heavy emotions. I suspect they will still be waiting somewhere beyond my mountain cocoon, but not today, not here at this beautiful place. I did not hurry down river, I was hardly cognizant of any time, I walked very slow and deliberate and arrived in faster time than ever before. How is that? A whio greeted me at the waterfall 20 minutes from the hut. I sat on the huge log and watched him, he also seemed in no hurry. When he finally left in his graceful unerring flight back up river it seemed as if in slow motion, every detail stood out, the sound of the river, the sound of the waterfall joining the river, the rocks and bush, and the whio seemingly hovering above me. I arrived at the hut with tear stained cheeks.

I feel very clear, and very focused in this moment. Everything seems to have a reason and make sense, even the pain I brought here with me. Maybe letting go of that is measure or mark to where I am at as a man. I have two more days to contemplate these things. I have been given a great Gift. I am happy for me.


Aroha
Robb

42 comments:

vegetablej said...

I am happy for you, too, though this was a few years ago. But I know you will feel it again, as soon as you get a bit of free time.

It's so wonderful that you and your family have gotten all those benefits form conscious shopping, cooking, and eating, and the best thing is that you have recognized it! It can only get better from here on. I'm happy to hear about the side effect of reduced garbage, too. It's so darn hard to escape the plastic wrap, bags, and the blister packs even on lettuce, for Heaven's sake. The farmer's market is so much better, and you feel your food actually still has a few vitamins left.

Related to that, I have a tip for you about storing foods and also for lunches. I'm trying to get away from those plastic cntainers with lids that never seem to survive the dishwasher, and end up all mismatched in the cupboard. I've switched to glass mason jars of various sizes. Some are small enough for a child's lunch and light weight, too. They all go into the dishwasher along with the lids, and best of all, all the lids match all the bottles. Around here you can buy a full box of bottles cheaply in the supermarket.

One of the best things about raising kids and eating a diet with enough vitamins is that they get far fewer colds and 'flus.

I love autumn. Hope you will get a moment to enjoy the colours.

:)

Lost Coyote said...

A Lost Coyote is of two hearts. One that is keen to the early morning AUTUMN hunt, the chase and the kill and a heart that beats to thoughts like these from Barry Lopez:

"It is a convention of popular sociology that modern man leads a frustratingly inadequate life in which hunting becomes both overcompensation for a sense of impotence and an attempt to re-root oneself in the natural world. As man has matured, the traditional reason for hunting to obtain food had disappeared, along with the sacred relationship with the hunted. What is most emphatically not disappeared, oddly, is the almost spiritual sense of identification that over comes a hunter in the presence of a wolf. Here is an animal capable of killing a man, an animal of legendary endurance and spirit, an animal that embodies marvelous integration with its environment. This is exactly what the frustrated modern hunter would like: the noble qualities imagined; a sense of fitting into the world. The hunter wants to be the wolf."

Me, I don't want to be a wolf, to risky in these parts (as if being a coyote wasn't bad enough)

I want wolves here, where I hunt, just to see how I match-up.

Just a thought, a rambling thought at that...

Kiggavik said...

Always good to read your ruminations Robb. I have to admit that I feel a curious disconnect reading about seasons south of the Equator. It seems strange to hear of a transition to Autumn as we slide (slowly) into spring. When I lived in more temperate spots Autumn was always my favourite time of year. Bright yellow Poplar leaves, grass tipped with frost crunching underneath, the smell of highbush cranberries, and rutting elk bugling somewhere above. But that seems (and is) so far away.

Take care my friend, and throw on some blaze orange if you wander into the mountains. Would love to see a photo of a stag in the Roar.

Robin Easton said...

Dear Robb, I am yet again moved to tears. This is SUCH a loaded post I don't know where to start. I think I will pick the thing that sits foremost in my mind. It is your words: "The battle I have between two worlds." I have a line in my book (the one I just finished) that refers to when I am leaving the rainforest for the last time and going back out into the world of man, and I am so wild I don't even relate to that human/man-made world anymore. I had BECOME the rainforest and Nature herself. In my book I say, "I am a woman about to walk in the space between two worlds. I will no longer be with my beloved rainforest, and yet I am not part of the world of man. I walk in a space between."

I have adapted "somewhat" Robb. I've had to survive out here in society. But honestly? I don't like many of the "adaptations" and will one day return permenently to the wild. But I am MUCH better at bring the wild with me no matter where I go, more than I was a few years ago. I cross back and forth the bridge between society and the wild, as do you. It is not easy. But I too garden all summer, as well as collect wild edible plants and herbs. And I eat organic and if possible locally grown food.

I also do what you do. I bring my wild world with me and share it everywhere I go, just as you do in this blog. I see powerful awakenings and soul realities surfacing in you at such a rapid rate. The same is happening in me and maybe that is part of what we are supposed to be doing, helping those who have forgotten their connection to the wild....remember who and what they really are. I realize that the Earth desperately needs wild voices to speak for her. I truly believe it was why I was sent back into the world of humans. I literally heard the forest telling me that.

You have a HUGE and magnificent path infront of you as a teacher and guide for those who have forgotten. When I say the Earth needs more voices, she literally does if we are all to survive and move into our full potential as human animals living in harmony with all the rest of life on Earth.

You are truly beautiful and a great gift in my life and in so many lives, a great gift on the planet.

Aroha dear wild brother,
Robin

Marja said...

Autumn is my favourite season. It is usually stil quite warm and mild and no wind at all. This year the colder weather sat in a bit earlier but it is still not too bad You can dress for it. I haven't been walking a lot lately either. The call of the mountains is not as strong for me than for you though. Although I highly enjoy it, I also get excited about many other things.
I am more a gatherer than a hunter but I enjoyed the several Hangies we had at Scouting when we ate wild pig and dear, caught by two leaders.
We always ate healthy Dutch people don't go out much for dinner either (deep pockets) and we have a vegie garden as well Everything grows vast in NZ
we always have beans for the whole year stored in the fridge.
Next year we might get some chickens
Hope you have a good autumn and wish you well

Barbara Martin said...

Robb, I need to visit more regularly. Your other visitors, and yourself, are well connected to the cosmos of one. The changing of diets and work habits will bring a boon to the earth.

Everything you wrote about your hike and your feelings felt as one with me. Beautiful. A kindred spirit. Take care and have yourself a nice autumn.

Pam said...

Hi Robb! Can't tell you how much I've enjoyed your words this morning, also Adam's reflections, after visiting his site. It is wonderful when words and feelings run deep to prod and prompt others out of complacency, to present viewpoints with sheer passion that is tinged with wonder, yet allowing room for compassion...as someone mentioned, teachers and guides, both of you.

kylie said...

hi robb,
i need more time than i have right now to digest your post but i will be back.
it's a good thing you dont post too often, i could never keep up!

aroha
k

D'Arcy said...

Robb,

I enjoyed your post. I always do. I'm glad you write and feel and think in harmony with me. I'm glad for that connection.

As you know there is always something whole about the fact that you and Gustav have times and seasons that are opposite from us here in the US of A.

While you go into the loveliness of fall, I am starting to see the sun shining and longer days, and big walks in the park, and warm winds, and the beginning of buds. I guess I just love this mother earth of ours. I love how she is constantly in a million different states and providing a billion different experiences to each of us,


Love to you and your family!

Ruahines said...

Kia ora VJ,
Thanks for the tip about the jars, might have to look into that as our drawer full of plastic containers gets pretty ugly in the way you describe.
We are getting better with our eating and some of that is due to the inspiration found in places like yours. Cheers VJ, hope you get some Nature in your day.
Aroha,
Robb

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Lost Coyote,
True words my friend, and an interesting topic all on it's own, The frustration of men, and coming to grips with ancient drives still within us but now seemingly redundant in this plastic world where sitting in an office is more valued than interacting with the earth or actually producing something..
That is one part of the wild back home that I do miss, the nights in a tent with the wolves or coyotes howling. Primitive and beautiful. Kia kaha LC.
Cheers,
Robb

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Clare,
It is still a bit strange for me as well. One aspect of your photos is how much ANY colour stands out in your world. I miss the dramatic change with the smells and colours of autumn, somehow I get a sense of that in the mountains.
Interesting about the blaze orange. When I hunted in Wisconsin the law was 80% blaze orange, here the uptake seems very slow and I rarely see hunters attired in it, in spite of the fact that deer are colour blind and the colour is to make your self visible to other humans WITH GUNS. I do wear brighter colours in the fall and thanks for your concern.
Cheers Clare,
Robb

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Robin,
Oh my wild sister how you make me smile! I think if I did not have my family around me the pull of Nature would be too strong for me to live out here sometimes. I know you understand maybe even better than I do. It is the things we take so seriously between 8 and 5 that sometimes just bring me down. So perhaps some of these other things will help me to bridge that gap between two worlds. And so has connecting with some wonderful people here as well. That is very important to me. Thank you Robin, as always, for your presence here, for your inspiration, and for the Gifts you bring to the world. I carry your spirit with me in the Ruahines wild one!
Aroha,
Robb

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Marja,
Sorry to read at your place you will be away for awhile, but there is a lot of cool stuff awaiting you - and no doubt much to share when you come back. Take care and kia kaha.
Aroha,
Robb

Dave said...

Good to hear an (ex-)hunter's perspective. I know a lot of hunters who feel about nature approximately the way you do, but unfortunately few of them feel inclined to blog - probably becasue they'd rather be outside than hunched over a computer. Anyway, thanks for a thoughtful and thought-provoking post.

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Barbara,
Cheers, and I certainly enjoy my visits to your place and visualize myself roaming in some of that stunning country. Please do visit more often!
Rangimarie,
Robb

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Barbara,
Adam's place has become one of my favourite stops, and he is actually a teacher. I think I am more of a learner, but I appreciate your thoughts and words.
Aroha,
Robb

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Kylie,
Well I shall wait patiently and look forward to your thoughts! You are lovely and please have a great day.
Aroha,
Robb

Ruahines said...

Kia ora D'Arcy,
Always cool to see your visits, and yes, it is a good connection. It is amazing how the earth is always changing , always providing beauty for us, even in the most of unlikely places. The one thing that connects us all. May the sun shine upon you on the lovliest of spring days!
By the way, the name of that new Van cd is : Astral Weeks - Live at the Hollywood Bowl, and it is amazing. I had tears in my eyes listening to it. I guess because I am so familar with the original Astral Weeks and Van, but his music just hits that spot in my Soul and his music Moves Me! Highly recommended!
Aroha,
Robb

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Dave,
Well I must write honestly that I would prefer to be outside in those mountains as well. But while I can't writing about them and sharing here does help quite a bit. Glad you enjoyed!
Cheers,
Robb

kylie said...

hi again robb,
i still dont have anything worth saying!
i see so much value in the things you talk about: tramping, farmers markets, wild places but somehow i can't or won't male these things part of my life. i blame my circumstances and then wonder if it's only a matter of will......

i can only hope that my willimgness to examine myself counts for something

thanks for your kindness, it's much appreciated

aroha
k

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Kylie,
Of course it counts! It all comes from within, a life unexamined is not worth living and all of that. So the mere fact you come away from here with a few ponderances makes me glad. Have a look around your own back yard and I bet you will find some amazing things. Nature is never far away.
Aroha,
Robb

kylie said...

absolutely! but theres nothing like being immersed in it....

talking of backyards, you know i once took about 30 photos trying to get one of a particularly cool spider in our backyard. my photography skills let me down on that :)

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Kylie,
I wonder what you might think of those photos now? Maybe not as off the mark as you thought then. Time gives a much better perspective. In any case, you had that Moment in your own back yard. There are many others there waiting for you there, and elsewhere. Thanks for making me smile my friend.
Aroha,
Robb

Bob McKerrow said...

That time of year when yellow leaves or few or none do hang.

William loved Autumn too ! You're in good company Robb. Autumn is a yellow time, a mellow time in the mountains and they tend to relax after equanoxial gales, but beware of 15 to 5 April. Can be a savage time in them thar hills and the sea. The Wahine storm struck early April 68.

Food, love to read about it.

Thanks Robb.

Bob

Lynda Lehmann said...

ROBB - Again your words move me and speak to the deepest part of me. I too, know the wistfulness of being divided between an aggressive and fragmented consumerist society and the pull of nature.

Not that nature is always gentle or in harmony. But its disruptions spring from a whole medley of diverse forces and natural processes interacting, sometimes in an unpredictable and destructive way.

But with humans, there is fear involved. And fear destroys the harmony within us and makes us act in wanton and senseless, destructive ways. Mostly, fear invites the demon of greed.

Nature is giving, most of the time, and I experience the beauty of our Earth as a great nurturing force. I get so much more solace and joy from nature than from people, and it makes me wonder why our petty competitions and larger ones generate such an alienation and disconnection--both from the earth and from each other.

Anyway, your words are well chosen and beautiful, and provide both sustenance and food for further thought. I love the photos of the forest and the brushy, mossy pungent forest floor. And the light on the hills...

Thanks for introducing us to Adam's writing and way of thinking. He is articulate, as well, and I'll have to check out his blog.

I wish you joy in every season, and in every well-placed footstep upon the good earth.

PS - Several other positive things about an economic downturn:
-we generally consume less of what we mostly do not need anyway
- fuel consumption goes down
- air pollution is diminished because of less traffic
- we step off the treadmill to examine our cultural norms, our institutions, and our personal behaviors. hopefully...

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Bob,
I settled in last evening in my favourite chair and a bit of Wordsworth and Whitman - and a wee dram!
It is a temptestous time to be in the hills true, between hunters and the weather. Yet I still always seem to hoist my swag at some point and head into the mist. I will take care though, and I will toast you as well!
Cheers,
Robb

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Lynda,
I appreciate your word, "not that Nature is always gentle or in harmony." Very true, and I must honestly admit that before my tramps, and particular solo ones, it is always the weather which causes me the most concern. Yet once there amongst it, I seem perfectly capable of dealing with it, or simply making a decision to not travel and stay in a warm hut seems easy. A famous New Zealand mountaineer and explorer of the late 1800's, Charlie Douglas, once wrote, "not being able to swim has saved my life many times". In other words, he stayed put. A lesson I took to heart. And while we are part of the processes of Nature, she is a very neutral presence. There is Beauty in that as well.
And indeed, there are a lot of simple benefits to this down turn as well. Most of us would find we still have plenty. Cheers Lynda, may the mountain breeze blow gently upon you.
Aroha,
Robb

PATERIKA HENGREAVES, Poet Laureate said...

Kia ora Robb

Now that your kids are off to the start of a new school year I wish them much success in their studies.

This blog provided a very delightful read. You made a very profound statement among many and it is this: "I'm happy for me". Well said. Once one is comfortable in one's own skin it is not at all difficult to reach out to others be they family or friends from different worlds. We much like who were are first so that this liking can be projected on to others in so many delightful ways.

Yes, indeed Autumn has arrived. Mother earth is showering you with her festival of colours before she takes her beauty sleep. I do like the season of Autumn not too hot and not yet too cold. The confetti of various colours falling from nature's paint brush gives us a colourful mess to enjoy. Mother earth's recycles her colours so awesomely.

Recycling is such a wonderful thing as you have clearly shown from your experiencing of it. Recycling is a concept we must take seriously if we do care for our planet.

I do believe that the hunting of animals for food and recycling their pelts for clothing is not at all bad. We have got to sustain our daily intake of protein in our diet; and proteins from grains alone will not provide the answer; for variety is the spice of life where food is concerned. Hunting animals as a sport is something else and that's where I tend to draw the line.

Thank you very much for sharing your profound thoughts.

Cheers
Paterika

Patry Francis said...

Robb, thanks for sharing your beautiful world, your honest struggles, inspiring suggestions, and especially your AUTumn. It's wonderful to know that divine season never entirely forsakes the earth.

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Paterika,
Thank you for reading here, and for observing here. Your comments are always so thorough and thoughtful. I sometimes feel like a student trying to please a favourite teacher, trying to write to standards I might not think that I can possibly reach. Your feed back always means a great deal to me Paterika. Kia ora!
I think I have always felt comfortable in my own skin in most ways, but the expectations of a world I am not really all that comfortable in has been the hard part. I am getting better, particularly by having to raise two boys. A matter of balance.
Paterika, thank you so much for your presence in my life. You have made a difference and I honour that. I shall take you along in the Ruahines for an Autumn stroll. Kia kaha.
Aroha,
Robb

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Patry,
I so enjoyed reading of your walk, and any time spent observing and being amongst the outdoors is unique and positive. Those 32 minutes meant a lot to me as well Patry. You inspire me.
Aroha,
Robb

maya said...

Greetings Brother

Autumn resonates with me more than any other season. The memory of raking leaves and the colorful ambience of the forest take me way, way back to my roots, to the land of Wisconsin.

Yet Tasmania fall has its own unique fall beauty. I went fly fishing on the Weld River with my mate Ben yesterday and it was magic. The colour of the sky and swirling whirling leaves and waves added up to a fine day with a friend in the river.

Autumn also reminds me of my impermanence. The cold, dark winter awaits as we gather our nuts for winter. The trees brace for the onslaught and the cold hand of winter challenges us all to Live, to burn brightly for every moment.

You are a fine Fire my friend and I am warming my hands from the warmth of your blaze.

Gustav said...

Brother

I received your messages and trust you are celebrating life at this moment.

Look forward to hearing about your latest adventures.

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Brother,
Sorry for the "radio silence". In the midst of my busy period with work, so not much time to retreat to this little refuge.
My next adventure lies in wait soon, an annual journey after this period to get back to Nature, 4 days of Quiet Wandering, Cloud Hidden, away from this Madness.
The fall does call strongly us Wisconsin boys brother, a myriad of sights, smells, and emotive visions of our Roots.
I am glad to read of your continuing Journey with the rivers of Tazzie, and hope we can explore the beautiful offering of the Ruahines soon again as well.
Van's new cd rocks! It is currently on my high repeat list.
Aroha,
Robb

Robin Easton said...

Dear Robb, I know you have moved on to a new post, which I also left a comment on, but your response to my comment on this post made me cry. I felt so completely seen. I just have tears running down my face and I am completely unashamed of them. They are REAL, and clean and solid and feel very right. Thank you for understanding how I feel about the wild and being in it and even the challenge of being in society. Of walking between two worlds. Thank you for helping me to feel who I REALLY am by sharing your experiences here. By speaking your gut level truth and emotions about the wild places and your connection to them. I ALWAYS feel more ME. Thank you so so much. You are very gifted. Aroha, your wild sister, Robin :)

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Robin,
I SEE you wild sister! I HEAR you as well. When I get those moments in Nature when everything Pulsates and I feel completely Honest and Open, I FEEL you there. Knowing there are others who feel that, and may struggle out here every bit as much, feels like being thrown a Life Persever in a huge sea. So Thank You Robin my wild sister. Kia kaha!
Aroha,
Robb
ps - I never feel as if I have moved on from any post, and the comments I think I relish the most are the ones that may pop up on the past parts we share :)

Robin Easton said...

Dear Robb, Thank you for this response. I've had long hard day at the computer and I just came here to read, to feel clean again. Like how Nature makes us feel sooooo beautifully clean and fresh. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for "seeing". It is bigger gift that words can express. Just thank you. Aroha...always. Robin

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Robin,
And thank you wild sister! I too have just finshed the longest and most stressful work period of my year - late next week I am heading into the Ruahines for 4 days! Yes! Get ready Robin, you are coming with me.
Aroha,
Robb

adam said...

I haven't known how to respond to this post, Robb.
For years my favorite season was fall; as much for for the slackening pace after summer's activities for the quickening of the heart as winter's night descends.
Priorities changed as the kids came and work for income drew me indoors more often. Blood pooled in my heart more than more welcome feelings and dreams, and I worried over wood, coal and food stores more than stories and the visits of family and ancestors.
One of the blessed things that forestalls the darkness from taking me from my hinges is the hunts of autumn. Like you, I am not so connected to the kill as to the pursuit and the trail, and I have the Coyote Lost to thank for much of what I have learned over the years of the craft of the kill and preparation of the killed.
My mom raised me with intent to keep me far from guns and what she saw as accompanying violence, so I got very little in the way of hunting. And though when Drie and I got married, that changed, I have always been somewhat ambivalent to the hunt, though I when I get the opportunity or necessity in my life, I pursue it with a tenacity that suggests the visceral nature it holds on many souls such as ours.
I wish you hope and visions as the sun crosses over to the north; and in that change toward more night, I wish your family abundance of food, warmth and that which quickens the heart beyond even the darkest night.

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Adam,
I honour the fact you have taken time to consider and write a response that again builds a kindred synchronicity between us Adam. You understand what I am trying to write, seemingly better than I do myself at times.
I too feel the darkness closing over me in the autumn, and I do so now, a very helpless and frustrating event - as if I am standing beside myself watching it happen but incapable of stopping it. Which is why the forests and the hunts back home were so important, as if releasing a pressure valve and letting go of things I did not even understand as a youth. Focused only on the forest and matching wits with its creatures.
And it is still why the mountains call to me now, a refuge I can retreat to above the darkness and gather myself once again. I don't seem to understand it all any better than I did as a youth, but I do understand the tonic.
Thank you for your thoughts and your fine wishes my brother, and I wish the same for you and your family. And may you and the Lost Coyote roam freely.
Aroha,
Robb

Nature Nut /JJ Loch said...

Robb, what a grand post!!! You take us all with you on your treks and what a joy it is to visit your blog. Love what happened with your whistle. That must have been such a beautiful connection with nature.

Your imagery ROCKS!!!

Cheers! JJ