This past week has brought a blaze of color to the state of Maine. Cool nights followed by warm day's of Indian-summer have created a glow that is unique to this time of year. As the month of October looms ever nearer the world seems a bustle of activity in preparation for the coming cold. In yards chipmunks hurriedly rush with cheeks tumefied with acorns beech nuts or any other source of nutrient the striped fellow could scrounge up. In yards and driveways woods is being splits and many a barn or shed has begun to collect a stack of the stuff. In classrooms we are diving deeply now into studies, racking our brains with new knowledge and information. New life experiences and developments seem to be a daily or in some cases hourly occurrences, and it is our best hope to keep up. We rush to join clubs, and teams and make commitments that will help to subdue the idleness that is bound to come. Before long we will be with our families to give thanks, and perhaps there may even be snow on the ground. Then the holiday season in all it's feau and flashy pomp and circumstance will barge its way into our already overcrowded lives. Then in a blink it will be winter cold and desolate, long and dark. It is in that time that we often realize we didn't stop to take in Autumn. Because it is a fleeting time we often miss it's inherent value, instead rushing to prepare for idleness to come.
There is, I believe, a unique sense of serene urgency that is experience in the Autumn. Usually urgency and serenity are contradicting emotions but in the fall they somehow mold together. While I am constantly reminded of rapid changes that are upon me and hurriedly prepare for those cold hard and idle times, I cannot help but feel an urge to embrace unruffled sense of stoic tranquility welling inside me. Fall is an easy time to get lost in the moment, if you allow yourself to. How do I utilize this season to the utmost of my abilities without allowing life to drop out of balance and enter winter unprepared? It is a question and a balance I have struggled with my whole life.
Is the world in fall truly a better place? I often feel that in the busyness of life my view of the world during autumn is akin with make-believe and fairy tales. There is no doubt it is, if only for a time helplessly resplendent like kingdoms far far away. Not just aesthetically, but in someway that is magical and unexplainable.
Perhaps it's not magic, perhaps it's just the culmination of a plethora of Natural phenomenon that alludes to the perception of magic. Either way, why miss it. It will be gone fast, so recreate in it, be a little kid. Go outside and just get lost in it, the memories and magic will keep you warmer and more romanced through winters and years to come than any man-made hustle and bustle or activity we could conjure up!
Monday, September 29, 2014
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
A walk of preparation
As I've said before fall is a special time for me, it's a time for me to recharge the tank, gain perspective on life, and break out some timeless skills and traditions. For me hunting along with Music is my most cherished tradition. So as is the case with such things the season comes with a certain amount of pomp and circumstance This particular fall ushers in slew of personal changes along with the change of seasons, and for me some of these changes have effected my ideal autumnal routine. I usually begin running a couple of miles three or four days a week in July and August and continue on through September to prepare my legs for the long days of trudging through the woods through October November and December. This healthy habit (I'm sorry to say) has more than somewhat fallen by the wayside, and I'm not in the type of shape that I'd like to be. As has been preached to me many times, you don't kill birds with your gun you kill them with your legs. This is water under the bridge however, and for now I just must accept that I may be limited by my training or rather lack thereof...
It's in the middle and beginning of September when I begin to really start scouting for bird coveys (areas of habitat which contain game). This involves many hours of driving around to old and new haunts and more time spent walking through them, mock hunting. There are maps to be studied, landowners to contact for access permission, notes to be taken and new territory to be put into place. In addition to visiting old favored spots, it's very important from a conservation perspective not to over-hunt an area. In a perfect world I would hunt each cover a maximum of four times in a season; twice in one month (which month dependent on cover type) and once in the two remaining months of the season. This was relatively easy to do when living in Downeast Maine where cover was plentiful and access was much more easily attained and freely given.
So given my new living situation and lack of proper training and preparation it goes without saying that my zeal for the season although never completely extinguishable has been diminished to a level that startles me. I'm finding it hard to justify the time and energy to go and look for spots and just get in the woods, believing that disappointment is somewhat likely. Today however I broke myself free and allowed myself the guilty pleasure of a good scouting walk.
I pulled off water street and unto the dirt track and parked my car by the banks of the Mousam river. The sluggish river seemed peaceful in a somewhat lifeless and lethargic way. The leaf cover in the woods was still very thick as it will surely be for some time, and much of the foliage still turned the sunlight an emerald shade as it shined through the stained glass window of Natures cathedral. I've driven by this spot innumerable times, and although it's area does not seem overwhelming "birdy" the eternal optimist in me can no longer sit inside feeling bad about the season and my ill preparedness. Outside of the car I take a deep breath soaking in surprisingly warm air and begin down the unexpectedly well worn path alongside the river. I scan the woods for signs of food types of foliage all the while keeping my ears keenly tuned for the sounds of wings. I walk along the path for some distance, several hundred yards at least before the river turns sharply south and the path abruptly ends at it's banks. An excellent spot for a duck blind I observe from a well worn canoe launch, not necessarily what I was looking for but information all the same. I walk back to my car at a brisk but measured pace, regretting not removing the wool sweater I'd adorned this morning.
As I got back into my car and before pulling away I sat momentarily looking at the river; I needed this. So often I deny myself the cleansing and restorative powers of nature because I'm too busy, or have to work, or have preconceived notions of what the experience will be. The experienced is defined by the reflection and the attitude which you take into it. The Season and the changes will come and go quickly and they will be what they will be. I have as much opportunity to gain, learn, and I will be blessed by them as I always have. I must be open though and allow myself to get out of the house and out of my stubborn mind and have an experience everyday because we must not stop learning or having adventure.
It's in the middle and beginning of September when I begin to really start scouting for bird coveys (areas of habitat which contain game). This involves many hours of driving around to old and new haunts and more time spent walking through them, mock hunting. There are maps to be studied, landowners to contact for access permission, notes to be taken and new territory to be put into place. In addition to visiting old favored spots, it's very important from a conservation perspective not to over-hunt an area. In a perfect world I would hunt each cover a maximum of four times in a season; twice in one month (which month dependent on cover type) and once in the two remaining months of the season. This was relatively easy to do when living in Downeast Maine where cover was plentiful and access was much more easily attained and freely given.
So given my new living situation and lack of proper training and preparation it goes without saying that my zeal for the season although never completely extinguishable has been diminished to a level that startles me. I'm finding it hard to justify the time and energy to go and look for spots and just get in the woods, believing that disappointment is somewhat likely. Today however I broke myself free and allowed myself the guilty pleasure of a good scouting walk.
I pulled off water street and unto the dirt track and parked my car by the banks of the Mousam river. The sluggish river seemed peaceful in a somewhat lifeless and lethargic way. The leaf cover in the woods was still very thick as it will surely be for some time, and much of the foliage still turned the sunlight an emerald shade as it shined through the stained glass window of Natures cathedral. I've driven by this spot innumerable times, and although it's area does not seem overwhelming "birdy" the eternal optimist in me can no longer sit inside feeling bad about the season and my ill preparedness. Outside of the car I take a deep breath soaking in surprisingly warm air and begin down the unexpectedly well worn path alongside the river. I scan the woods for signs of food types of foliage all the while keeping my ears keenly tuned for the sounds of wings. I walk along the path for some distance, several hundred yards at least before the river turns sharply south and the path abruptly ends at it's banks. An excellent spot for a duck blind I observe from a well worn canoe launch, not necessarily what I was looking for but information all the same. I walk back to my car at a brisk but measured pace, regretting not removing the wool sweater I'd adorned this morning.
As I got back into my car and before pulling away I sat momentarily looking at the river; I needed this. So often I deny myself the cleansing and restorative powers of nature because I'm too busy, or have to work, or have preconceived notions of what the experience will be. The experienced is defined by the reflection and the attitude which you take into it. The Season and the changes will come and go quickly and they will be what they will be. I have as much opportunity to gain, learn, and I will be blessed by them as I always have. I must be open though and allow myself to get out of the house and out of my stubborn mind and have an experience everyday because we must not stop learning or having adventure.
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
The World of an Amorous Woodsman
My name is Landon Knittweis, and I am the Amorous Woodsman. I want to begin by telling you a little about myself. I have a strong streak of romanticism for life and the world around me that is parallel only with my passion for the place I call home (oh and perhaps dogs). I have been blessed to grow up, recreate and become a man in the great state of Maine. I'm passionate about my state and the rich and unique outdoor traditions & heritage that it possesses. My experiences in the Maine outdoors have shaped my life in a very holistic and powerful way. From influencing the types of clothing I buy, and how I spend my free time, to my spiritual and physical health it plays an integral role in my life and is paramount to the balance of my well-being and quality of life.
Maine has a seemingly endless number of ways to enjoy the outdoors and learn about yourself through them, it is the most hands-on well rounded classrooms that I've ever been in. Every adventure promises the opportunity to not only learn new skills and hone established ones, but it also allows me to shape my values and ethics through concrete interactions with the world around me. For me a tree is not just a tree, nor a bird just a bird; each holds a specific and necessary place in the balance of the universe. I value each experience and season as they pass, drinking each in as if it were a brew concocted by means of a happy accident. I gorge myself on them as quickly and lustfully as I can without fear of the nearly assured intoxication that they provide.
It is because Maine has played such an important role in my life and shaped my values in such a significant way that I have chosen to live a life that gives back to things that made me who I am. I believe strongly in re-investing in the people places and things that make you who you are. For me the ways that I do that are to continue learning, participating, practicing, and teaching others traditional forms of art, recreation, worship, occupation, and ways of life passed down and developed through generations of Mainers to create the rich tapestry that is our way of life in beautiful northern New England.
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| Sunset canoeing on North Pond, Rome Maine Summer 2014 |
Challenges and new opportunities for learning and growth in this place are endless, especially at this time of year! We area approaching what I believe to be the most magical and wonderful part of the year in Maine, Autumn. With it's brilliant colors, smells, and changes that capture the mind and entrance the senses the months of September through November are a magical time. For me they mean long rides in the car, time with family (cherishing the season while preparing for winter), canoe trips down slowing rivers, and most importantly hunting season!
Join me this fall and I'll take you on a journey in Maine through the eyes of an Amorous Woodsman!
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