Wandering the Paths of Silvanus
Yvonne C Parizo
Wandering along a carpet of green, I stop; close my eyes, and feeling the breeze brush against my face; I allow myself to drift off into the past…a past which was filled with wandering the paths of Silvanus, the Roman god of woods – protector of forests. Time seems to stop as a scent reaches me and I find myself racing after my big brother, Ivan, who is going through the fields of our farm rounding up the dairy cows in order to bring them back to the barn for milking. Ahead of him is our shepherd, Lady, who searches amongst the trees and brush of this one path; barking and nipping at the cows as they chew their cud and heave themselves up for the journey to the barn. The sweet aroma of spearmint wafts through the field and I leave behind my brother to find the wild patch it comes from....Abruptly, I am pulled back to the present and find myself sniffing the air only to find that a fellow wanderer has passed by me, obviously chewing spearmint gum; leaving a scented trail behind him. I smile to myself as I stroll along the path at the Key Vista Nature Park, by Anclote; and I reflect on the memory which had overtaken me. I press my walking stick into the ground using it as a cane as I continue on my hike. My walking stick is a branch from a tree which I have cured into a good hiking pole and I lean on it from time to time when the trail becomes too harsh for my arthritic knees to handle.
Yet, even it reminds me of the past when I was a child and lived on my parents’ dairy farm. Our farm was located in Central New York, surrounded by state land which kept the forests and creeks in their wild and natural ways. The farmhouse still stands today and is lived in, but the barns are gone, and the fields have become overgrown with bushes and trees as the wilderness claims its land back from humanity. While continuing my hike of today I think that I must have been a strange child; for I spent my
time either reading or exploring the woods and fields around our farm. I was extremely shy and had always been very sickly which led me to spend my time in nature rather than around other people. It was and still is the place I return to in order to find peace, meditation, and comfort.
Even as I ruminate on this thought, the woods of this Floridian nature preserve draw me in and I am reminded of a line by Henry David Thoreau: " When I would recreate myself, I seek the darkest woods the thickest and most interminable and, to the citizen, most dismal, swamp. I enter a swamp as a sacred place,-- a sanctum sanctorum. There is the strength, the marrow, of Nature” (Kindle location 5741-5743). Yes, Thoreau was right! It is the deepest and darkest areas of the woods within a swamp which becomes a sanctuary! Well, maybe not so much the swamp for me; but at least into an area of woods which does not divulge the presence of humans easily. No matter, Henry was attuned to the same tempo of nature that I am and I agree with his thoughts on walking as he did; for I was raised with the knowledge of respecting nature and listening to its many voices.
After all, when one is raised by state land, it is just a matter of common sense to understand the workings of a compass. Furthermore, I know that I am able to “feel” the subtle changes in the feel of the air or a scent. I understand that nature or “Gaia”, as mother earth was known to the Greeks, gives her inhabitants the ability to discern her hints if only they would pay attention and learn from her. There is a certain feel and sharpness to the air just before a change in weather occurs. Just as there is an odor which corresponds with the inception of low tide! Most people recognize the honking of geese as they fly in their v form heading southward that winter is approaching. Many in Florida listen with delight as the red-breasted robin twitters and chirps in the trees in March that spring has arrived and these precious emissaries of Nature are delivering this news whilst on their flight back to the northern states.
Although, Florida is a different from New York as blackberries are from blueberries; there is a common distinction between them…Nature is still the same. Whether it be blizzards coming off the
Finger and Great Lakes or a hurricane coming in from the Gulf, “Gaia”, demonstrates her power over humanity. This small preserve I am hiking through has over the years shown the evidence of her mighty strength. Trees have been upheaved, walkways have been flooded, and boardwalks have been ripped apart. Yet, it is a part of the cycle in nature which brings about birth, life, and death which in turns creates a rebirth of life. Even in this act of power by Nature, there is a beauty which awes humans for it is not just destruction which is shown but life and purpose by the way this power is displayed. I remember Ralph Waldo Emerson writing: “Therefore does beauty, which, in relation to actions, as we have seen, comes unsought, and comes because it is unsought, remain for the apprehension and pursuit of the intellect; and then again, in its turn, of the active power. Nothing divine dies. All good is eternally reproductive. The beauty of nature reforms itself in the mind, and not for barren contemplation, but for new creation” (Kindle Location 167-170). As I look around me, I agree, for the wilderness around me is beautiful in ways which humans find hard to comprehend at time. For some individuals and corporations are only interested in the land and the resources it holds. They see only the money which can be made and not the life or beauty which surrounds them.
I step out of the woods to find myself facing the west and the constantly undulating swelling of the Gulf’s waters on the beach of the park which has been preserved in its natural state. “How many people”, I wonder, ”have actually seen a beach in its natural state? How many beaches are there which are still in this form? Could this be how Ponce de Leon first saw the Florida shoreline?” So many thoughts and questions fill my mind as I look out at the sea and then peace for the movement of the water relaxes me and I find the stress has been removed; just by watching the gulf. “Thoreau was definitely right” I think, “when he stated: ‘No wealth can buy the requisite leisure, freedom, and independence which are the capital in this profession. It comes only by the grace of God. It requires a direct dispensation from Heaven to become a walker’” (Kindle Locations 5488-5490). I agree whole heartedly with him.
Being a walker is incredibly special and the freedom and leisure one finds is wonderful and with that I clamber down the small incline and saunter along the beach.
It is amazing what one can find on a beach. It is here where you can find visible signs of all types of life. Tiny crabs race across the sand, carrying bits and pieces of items they wanted back to their little homes in the sand. The footprints of raccoons crisscross one another showing where the mammals left the woods and went to the water and back again into the woods. Terns, gulls, sandpipers, eagles, hawks, pelicans, and other birds are seen flying overhead, nesting, or running across the sand. The slithering print of a snake is easily recognized along with the trail of lizards. Squirrels and other mammals have ventured out onto the beach and back into the woods again. In the sea, fish jump, dolphins leap out and play, and a starfish is found left on the shore by the receding water.
For some people, Nature is boring, lonely, and void of companions; but they are wrong for this beach is loaded with the signs of life. Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings lived not very far away and in her book, Cross Creek, she penned:
“Folk call the road lonely, because there is not human traffic and human stirring. Because I have walked it so many times and seen such a tumult of life there, it seems to me one of the most populous highways of my acquaintance. I have walked it in ecstasy, and in joy it is beloved. Every pine tree, every gallberry bush, every passion vine, every joree rustling in the underbrush, is vibrant” (14).
Indeed, this place is filled with life and not just wildlife either! The prints of humans and their dogs are left behind as well. This gives a walker the chance to imagine who had been here before, what dog was with them, why did they come, and where are they going now. It is a time of reflection about one’s own journey to this sanctuary and as the sun dips down to the horizon and sinks into it, the vibrant reds, pinks, and oranges slash across the vivid blue of the sky and paint a picture of God’s grace, love, and wisdom in its place. As this wondrous display fades into the ebony darkness of space, a different one is revealed and the stars shine brightly across the
heavens lead by the brilliance of Venus and Jupiter in the western sky. Orion begins his downward trek to the horizon followed by his dogs.
I turn and walk back into the arms of Silvanus who leads me through his paths back to where my car sat waiting to take me back into the realm of civilization. I reach my car, but stand there beside it, gazing back into the woods. My favorite writer of all time is whispering in my ear and I hear him entwine two of my favorite pieces of work by him:
“The woods are lovely dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep.
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to before I sleep.
For two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Really, I must have been a strange child….I loved walking in the woods with no one but my dog…I still do…
Works Cited
Emerson, Ralph Waldo (2011-03-24). Nature (Kindle Locations 167-170). Kindle Edition.
Frost, Robert. “Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening” and “The Road Not Taken”.
Rawlings, Marjorie Kinnan. Cross Creek. New York. Simon and Schuster. 1996.
Thoreau, Henry David (2009-05-26). The Works of Henry David Thoreau (with active table of
contents) (Kindle Locations 5741-5743). Douglas Editions. Kindle Edition.
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