The game trail leading into the pine grove lets me know I am on the right path. I am greeted by the sound of the wind blowing through a large stand of white pines. My footsteps are silenced by the carpet of pine needles. I often stand in this grove and feel as if I am in a cathedral, hushed and silent except for this divine wind. Brambles act as sentries as I make my way on through the woods. I soon cross a ravine where siltstones from the Mississippian age lie exposed. The sedimentary rocks at my feet were laid down millions of years ago when the area was a vast inland sea.
The small clearing I seek is not far from where I parked my vehicle. In fact, it is not that far from the nearest road. But when I reach it, it feels like I am miles into the woods. It is here that I find my Leaning Tree. The tree, a northern red oak, stands in this small clearing west of the Knobstone Escarpment in Brown County State Park. This species of oak is long-lived and its acorns provide nourishment to a variety of wildlife. The clearing, sitting on high ground, was likely the site of an old homestead or it may have been cleared by the Civilian Conservation Corp during the development of the park in the 1930’s. Sometime in the past an acorn sprouted on this spot and grew into the Leaning Tree.
Standing stately and erect in this small clearing, the Leaning Tree provides me with a place to rest. Leaning against its trunk, I stare off to the east and watch the sun rise above the woods and the clouds float by against a bright blue morning sky. The small pond in the clearing mirrors the sun and clouds while the tadpoles, water striders, and whirligig beetles go about their business. The clearing is carpeted by a variety of mosses and little bluestem grass, a tulip poplar lies in front of me and sassafras and cedar trees dot the clearing. A spring azure butterfly floats above the ground. Ants scurry along at my feet. Surrounded by deciduous woods on all sides, I feel as if I am anchored safely on this island amidst a vast sea of trees.
Here, I enter another time and place. I see my surroundings in more vivid detail. The fresh earth, decaying leaves, cedar trees, wildflowers, each one gives off its distinct aroma. In the early dawn hours, the birds awaken and their songs soon fill my ears with music. The blue jay, chickadee, titmouse, nuthatch, and crow add their voices to the dawn. The far off call of a wild turkey, the howl of a coyote, the hoot of a great horned owl, and the wind through the trees add to this wonderful song. Even my coffee tastes better here, its taste and aroma enhanced by this place. My senses are enriched in so many ways. Taste, touch, sound, smell, and sight carry me away on my sojourn from the man-made world.
This oak, perhaps my age, bares similar signs but remains sturdy and strong. Its rough bark and knurled branches always a welcome sight. I have watched it sprout new growth in the spring and become full of leaves in the summer months. I have seen its leaves turn red in fall and drop gracefully to the ground. I have heard the late fall winds whistle through its branches soon giving way to the cold breath of winter. Through these cycles of time it has remained sturdy and provided me a resting place during my sojourns here.
In many ways, I am like the tree. For a little while, I take root here and let the rest of life hurtle on its way. I put the breaks on the speed of life and take the time to stop and listen. Time becomes inconsequential. I am able to contemplate things that are only flashes of thought during my daily grind. I count my own growth rings and think about those yet to come. This tree and clearing are a gift of nature, a cathedral of contemplation where the ground is my pew and the sky is the altar. Here I mine deeper thoughts and follow new veins into regions of my mind yet unexplored.
There is so much in this place, the flora, fauna, and its place in geologic and modern history. But it is also a place where the dust of the world is blown off my shoulders. I am rooted deeply in the earth here but my spirit soars to higher places. It is the character of this place, the rhythms of my life, and my coming and going that give it meaning. It is a place where I will always return for I have taken root here and when I am away I get homesick for my Leaning Tree.
