Day 131: As a Tree Stands

I took a trip out of the city, headed north, and found a hotel off of the highway a few miles from the White Mountains. I had no intention of hiking up the mountains. That’s not a trip for me. Especially with the knee injury from high school. No, this was just a trip without knowing where I was going. Just to get away from work. Get away from Susan and her parents. Get away from any sort of responsibility for two days. I even left my phone at home. Don’t worry, I told Sue where I was going, for the most part.

“I still don’t understand why you’re leaving. We had plans for dinner. Janet’s art gallery is on display this weekend. You’re going to miss that.”

“You’re right, babe. But I just need to get away.”

“From me?”

“No.”

“From what then?”

“I just need a break.”

“We’re going on vacation next month.”

“I need one sooner.”

I wanted her to understand, but I didn’t really understand. I was sitting in the doctor’s office two weeks ago when I saw a magazine with a lady in a tight white outfit holding herself up with one leg while the other was pressed against the first in a sort of triangle. It looked like she was praying. The cover read, “Yoga: The Ultimate Stress Reliever.” I didn’t take up yoga. It looked hard and weird. But I flipped through the articles and stopped on one about taking walks in nature. There was a forest on the first page. I think it was the redwood trees outside of San Francisco. There was a couple hiking down the wide trail with backpacks. I skimmed the article and found a spot that said something like being in nature is like going to therapy without the huge bill and tissues.

I hadn’t thought about the article until this morning when I woke up. The ceiling fan was twirling across the white ceiling, throwing predictable shadows across the walls. Something inside tensed and I felt like if I didn’t get the fuck out of the city, out of my life for a day that something bad was going to happen. I was going to do something bad. I thought about those crazy people that showed up for work one random day and one of their co-workers decides to bring a gun to shoot anyone in sight. I could be that crazy person. Luckily, I’ve never fired a gun.

To the woods I went.

I brought a bottle of water. No backpack. I couldn’t imagine all the things that people thought they needed to just go walking in the woods. The clerk at the hotel gave me directions to the nearest parking lot near a trail. When I arrived around ten, there were already fifty empty cars in the parking lot. So much for getting away from people. I just hoped that there weren't a bunch of families with screaming kids bouncing around the trails. I imagined a theme park but in the woods and almost started my car back up.

No, just go, I told myself.

Despite the traffic of people, everyone was quiet. Even the kids walked along silently, heads tilted up, gazing at the tall trees. I forgot to bring bug spray, but luckily there were only a few spots where they got bad. The sun rays cut through the branches like solid sheets of paper. Squirrels scampered around, chasing each other from tree to tree. There was a constant ambiance of bird chirps that blended in with the forest. After a while a didn’t notice anything distinctive. Just the hum of nature living. I understood what the magazine article was talking about.

I found a thin trail that no one seemed to be going down. There wasn’t a sign next to it, but I could tell that it was used at some point. As I walked down the trail, I made sure to keep turning back so I was still in the eyesight of other people. But part of me wanted to not turn around. Part of me wanted to keep walking down that trail till it ended and then keep walking some more. Maybe a bear would eat me and I could rest. I laughed and kicked a stick.

I walked down the lonely path for a good ten minutes before I stopped. The dirt wasn’t as pronounced and there was an increasing amount of leaves covering the way forward. The path was not meant for the casual traveler. I looked up through the canopy. It was well past noon at that point. Could have been three. Could have been six. I reached into my pants to pull out my phone. It wasn’t there. I chuckled at the tense feeling that jolted through my stomach the moment my hands gripped nothing. The phone was at home, I knew. But there was still a naked feeling that I couldn’t shake. I’ll head back soon, I decided.

I dropped my butt down on the ground and leaned back against a large oak. At least, I assumed it was an oak. All trees that aren’t pine are oak to me. No matter. It didn’t matter to me. Probably didn’t matter to the tree either. I chuckled again thinking what a tree must be thinking about. They don’t have names. They don’t shout across the forest at their friend, Larry. They don’t get up and go to work and form relationships and go drinking and dancing and driving. They don’t label everything they see and try to figure out the universe. They just stand. They don’t even sit! They stand their whole life reaching for the sun and soaking up the rain. They don’t judge and they don’t mock. They don’t smile and they don’t laugh. I wondered if they felt pain or joy. I wondered what a withering tree felt like.

I wished that just for one day I could be a tree. To stand all day without worries or passion...with the patience of eternity.

After a while, I stood up. My knee started to ache. It was a long walk back and the sun would be setting soon. I knew I could never be a tree. It was something, like everything else, I needed to live with, to adapt to. Just like the rest of nature. The pain in my knee flared up and subsided. The walk back was tough, but it was worth it.

That was the first of many trips into the woods. I make sure to wear a knee brace now and take pain medication. I also bring two bottles of water, snacks, and a camera. I keep it all in my backpack. Sue still doesn't understand why I make the trip. That's okay because now I do.

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