Many years of walking through forests in Ontario and Quebec have not only changed me as a person but altered how I understand and perceive the natural world. It’s also changed how I use my camera.
I’ve always known the quiet and stillness of the forest. And how all my senses come alive when I’m walking there.
The story below is about how the forest helped me learn to be quiet and still as she is. How to listen and learn from all her wonders, her stories. How to allow bigger things to exist and be real.
Do you see anything interesting in the above image?
In 2018 and 2019 I started to notice the forest speaking to me more directly. This came in a variety of ways.
The first time I noticed this was when I stopped on a trail and stood silently for several minutes. It was as if all the birds and small animals came closer, surrounding me. I felt the forest in a greatly expanded state and reached down and touched the forest floor. It was alive, with a pulse and all within was connected. In this moment I felt fully allowed into this motherly realm, granted special access to these places.
I’ve come to realize that forests, their trees, and animals are so much more than just a place with nature. These places are alive as a unique and special family in deep harmony with all of its components. Every bird and squirrel, every tree, branch and leaf, every ray of light through the canopy, the moss, lichens, streams, and decomposing pieces are all alive and speak as a chorus of one. A full array of brilliance and beauty.
As I travel the forest today. I have regular conversations with it, letting the forest tell me its stories. In quiet moments I’m always surprised at the information and insight I am given.
After the blowdown this spring that saw many forests in our region damaged horribly, it was the forest itself that soothed me. The forest told me that it was alright and would recover and be fine. And the forest was right. Within a few short months, stump roots were sprouting, and new growth was everywhere. The forest might not ever look the same again, but it wasn’t meant to. The forest would do what they do, and that is to survive.
The forest is brave, courageous, and humorous as well. It knows the way forward, unfolding anew in every new moment. There is a smile in the way she works, and I often smile along with her on my walks.
Here is a great documentary about Canada’s Boreal forests – Borealis
