Over field and Stream

     The fall is blowing by at a speed that is sickening, just yesterday it seemed I'd walk outside only to be greeted by a mirage of brilliant color and temps in the low fifties, now the earth and sky have a grey and sullen complexion. Several snow storms have already struck our state but have spared the coastal region where I live for the most part. A new powerful storm looms near and all my senses tell me the critters of the woodland will be on the move tonight and tomorrow. It is the day before thanksgiving and I can't help but feel that I've been truly blessed. Although I've not harvested my deer or even seen so much as a flick of brown fur since the beginning of November I feel appreciative for the time I've spent in pursuit. It is at this time of year that many of us take time to stop and think about what it is that we're truly thankful for. In truth it's something we should be doing daily, but all too often set aside time only during this month and December to really consciously do so. For me there is nothing that makes me feel more alive and humbled and generally thankful than being in Nature. Each breath of wind cold or soft on your face, each chickadee alighting on branches near your face, the field mouse that scampered across the toe of my Bean boots none-the-wiser to my presence; all of these things are gifts.
    Tomorrow I will make my last attempt at bagging a deer. In truth my efforts this season have been lack luster, I've merely enjoyed being in the woods, taking a deer was somewhat secondary to the time I spent in a tree waiting. The last few months have been a journey and an exploration, admittedly some of  my discoveries about myself have been not so easy to swallow. From high in the air among the tree-tops over the field and stream however I could escape however momentarily. Perhaps escaping was not the right solution to my problems, but it was and has been better than being in denial. Time in the forest is not in truth an escape as much as it is a retreat. A place to gather ones self, to take stock in the finer items of life. I will always have Nature, and it will always have me no matter what life throws my way!

Nature has a funny way of sneaking up on you and making you feel special and in a certain manner, timeless. You see, although the forests and fields, streams and oceans are as subject to the laws of time just as are we all, they can captivate history with a level of efficiency yet to be duplicated by humans. I discovered this first hand for myself about a week ago at work. I'm fortunate enough to have a job that I not only like and believe in the work that I'm doing, but that is actually really fascinating. I work for a company that salvages parts and lumber from old homes, everything from furniture and hardware, to steeples from churches and beams from old barns. If it's old and can be used in a house we have it (hence the business name: Old House Parts). Last Thursday I was given the task of stacking, unstacking, and moving lumber to be ripped into sizable lengths to be used as flooring for a kitchen being built in North Carolina. I was about four hours into this task when I happened upon a pile of 25' pine boards that needed re-stacking. My boss Mike, told me over his shoulder as he walked by me that this was the "Primo-Shit" and to make sure to be careful how I stacked it. I figured given the offhand nature of his comment  that it was just good quality straight grain pine but didn't assume it carried to much greater significance.  I finished moving the original pile I'd been tasked with and turned my attention to the long lengths of pine. Upon removing the heavy black rain tarp covering the stack my eyes grew to the size of pie plates. Under the tarp lay not only the most straight grained and well seasoned boards I'd ever seen, but they were easily 30" wide.

Kings mark on tree.

       As anyone who knows me is well aware, I'm not often caught with a loss for words, but as I stood there mouth agape gawking and ogling over the specimens of pine before me I could not think of so much as a single intelligent word to utter other than "wow".  The reason for my utter veneration was simple I knew full well that boards of that size were not from this century or even the last. As I stood there stupidly admiring them I heard Mike approach from the shop behind me, "The King's Pine" he said, "1756 is the year on them if my memory serves me". The King's Pines, refers to the trees owned and marked to be set aside by King George III of England in the mid 1700's. He would mark the tallest straightest and widest of the white pines with an arrow (or "crow's foot" as the colonists called them) to indicate his ownership of them. These pines would be set aside for the making of masts for the royal British naval fleet. It was illegal to harvest one of these mighty giants as even then they were rare. Any tree that was worthy enough to be able to pass the strict requirements needed to be "mast quality" in all of New England was marked for the king. Troops would be ordered to walk the through the forest and find all trees that met the mark. So needless to say there were very few large trees that were left unnoticed for the colonists to harvest for flooring or other purposes. What this tells me, is that not only was this a tree marked for the king, but that it was cut down and used in my hometown by some passionate revolutionary as an act of rebellion. Perhaps I'm just a huge nerd, but I couldn't help but work through the rest of that pile grinning like an idiot from ear to ear. I couldn't help but feel so incredibly blessed. I was holding history in my hands. I was holding my heritage, the materials that had made my homeland free and independent from Tyranny in my hands. If you don't think that's cool than you're crazy. To think that more than 300 years ago a pine cone landed on the forest floor in my beautiful state and this tree was conceived. To think that it had seen so many revolutions of both war and industry as well as evolution of land and cultures, that it had survived so many natural and human disasters and torment all to arrive in such a glorious and dare I say immaculate condition and is a testament to not only it's superior quality of that individual tree but also to the significance of the role it played in and through our history and development. Breath-taking. Awe-inspiring. Un-real.