Board with nature?

“Will I get bored with nature”?  This was a question I asked myself as I walked along our dirt driveway contemplating moving out to our country place. My husband and I spent most our weekends here during a five year span in early 90’s.  We spent many hours exploring the woods and the pond, relaxing by the water and sensing that we were different people here than when we were in the city.  I differed in that I found myself able to sit and love looking out over the water, be silent and listen. I enjoyed walking through the woods, watching the sun come up and relished eating our meals outside. It’s as if there was a spiritual muse casting a sense of wonder over us. 

During our weekend stays we would walk up and down the driveway at least once a day.  I found my thoughts wandering, making plans and designing landscapes that would celebrate the natural beauty already existing. My designs tinkered with the woods lining the driveway, giving them a more park like nature that was familiar to me than the shrubby undergrowth that currently existed.  I wanted to domesticate nature.  In time and after many visits it came to me that if I felt so renewed just by being here why did I need to change it?  Why was I even looking to change it, why did I see everything in terms of what it could look like?  Was this the basis of my questioning: will I get bored with nature?  Would there be nothing to do here if I wasn’t busy changing it or giving the land more of a reason for being.

Watching the pond one day, it came to me that everything was just beautiful the way it was. Was the muse at it again?  Maybe so, but a discussion with my husband about the reality of living here helped me to realize that we had neither the time nor money to make changes beyond function.

We made the move and in living here, I began to see a layered and ever changing landscape that is nature. As we learned and discovered more about the land, plants and wildlife it became clear that boredom is not an option. Change is consistent in nature and wonders were discovered over and over again.  A breeze comes by pushing a leaf aside, exposing something new to see.  The flight of a butterfly leads to a flower I hadn’t seen before.   A fragrant scent floating on the air has us searching for its origin during our walks in the woods.  A light rain falls and the surface of the pond shimmers and quivers mesmerizing both Bart and I as time loses its importance.  The natural world here holds so much of interest and surprise for us that boring hasn’t come up as part of our vocabulary since I first thought of the question.    

Change comes no matter what the season.  Some years our pond is visited by a pair of otters in the winter.  Other year’s beavers take up residence in an existing beaver den at the edge of the pond under a huge oak.  Each year the trunk of the oak leans closer to the water and some day I expect to see it lying in the water, its roots exposed and perpendicular to the earth that nourished it - leaving the beavers without a roof to their home. The number and species of plants change from year to year.  When a familiar plant is missing one year another seems to show up in its place. And then there’s the excitement of seeing the horizon filled with blazing waves of pink, red, and sun-bleached orange against a blue sky with puffy white and gray clouds.  Wonder is the word of the day.