Friday, November 14, 2014

Take a Pill

Some days you may find yourself on a roller coaster that is not a thrilling ride but a hard and laughing-at-you ride, a day that is daring you to just "hang on."  You suddenly race down the rails and there does not seem to be an "up" ahead as the scenery sweeps sickeningly by.  I had one of those emotional roller coaster afternoons a few days ago.  I was sinking into one of those smokey funks that increases your shallow breathing and narrows your view of the world to a small dark place.  Hubby was in a flighty and restless mood, thank goodness(!), and lobbied for a quick canoe trip before dinner.  Canoe trips...they need to bottle this stuff as it is much more effective than Valium or Vicodin or whatever V chemical is the rage these days.

This is the time of year when only piercing calls of blue-jays or woodpeckers cut the still air, or perhaps, the distant scree of a hawk free from nesting obligations and looking for dinner movement under the leaf bed on the floor of the forest.  The temperature requires a jacket, but if you are too energetic in your paddling it must come off and lay at your feet in the canoe.  The air smells musty and brown and the lighting is rusty and warm.  This week has been the most magnificent week of fall color which buoyed my spirits like a whiff of Cloud 9.


The water's surface was glass and my paddle was the first thing that disturbed its perfection before the canoe's bow itself broke below a gentle V.  With each stroke my dismay floated away behind and toward some distant shore to be broken into tiny pieces of light where the river met the land.  A few people were on their docks with determined usefulness winterizing watercraft and stowing small fun stuff up on shore under tarps or into sheds.  An eager, large brown dog, the color of the oak leaves, greeted us at the end of his dock with dynamite energy and ebullient barking cracking through the fall air.  Such energetic friendliness made me think for a moment that he might leap and join us mid-canoe since he could see what a wonderful time we were having.   He understood what a precious day this was.


Our old aluminum canoe has been with us since we lived in Texas in the early 1970's.  It has met waters in the U.S. and Canada and waited patiently for us in storage while we lived in Asia.  It has bounced across rocks in rivers and ridden over small rapids on shallows and become stuck in muddy nooks in marshes.  It is very stable unless you have no understanding of canoes, then it will fling you like a frat boy into the water.  Hubby and I have never tipped this canoe, even when riding across the careless wake of some motorboat.  Others we loaned it to were not so lucky.  It is my old friend and it reassured me that whatever was bothering me on this day will pass as surely as we pass that yellow beech.  It hummed gently as we broke the glassy surface re-painting the mirrored reflections on shore.  It was a good old friend.


A lone deer watched us from the front yard of a summer cabin that had been closed for the coming winter.   Hunting season had arrived and he/she was very alert, yet did not bound into the shade of the woods at our appearance as we made our way into a small pocket of the river.


There are those perfect days when most of the sky is covered in soft cloud and the sun is at that low angle which sets its aim like the perfect arrow as it shoots its glow into the heart of earth.  Everything gets magically lit and what I see is some painting done by an artist in love with nature because it is too beautiful to be real.  When I returned home feeling better I got a perfect email that shut that roller coaster down all the way and with a sigh I enjoyed the warm sunset's glow after dinner.

14 comments:

joeh said...

Bottle that canoe trip and you would make a fortune!

Terrific post.

The Furry Gnome said...

Beautiful! Where did you to write so expressively!

Linda Reeder said...

it's hard to say what is more beautiful, your photos or your words. What a package they make together, like giving us our own canoe ride.

Red said...

Nice story of how to calm down. I just need to go for a brisk walk all by my self. Awesome photos to go with your experience.

Jenny Woolf said...

There is a great healing power in nature and your post conveyed this beautifully, together with the wonderful photos. I am glad you ended up feeling so much better

Peruby said...

Superb! I was not expecting that ending! I am very happy for you.

Oh how nature can set us right. It just plunks us down, makes us listen and tells us everything will be all right.

And, then it is.

ellen abbott said...

all I can say is 'yes'.

Bob Bushell said...

Superb spirit of nature there, love it.

Angie said...

Gorgeous---your words, your photos---gorgeous

messymimi said...

Just a perfect day to be out in a canoe!

Hilary said...

Beautiful, BEAUTIFUL space. The colours amazing.. the landscape perfect. And your words paint a picture as colourful as Nature, herself.

And I'm also glad about that ending. You're a gem, Tabor. :)

Pauline said...

I take a walk whenever that gray funk falls but now when the weather is inclement, I will pull this post back up and read it and feel marvelous in just moments. Thank you, Tabor! This is positively joyous.

One Woman's Journey - a journal being written from Woodhaven - her cottage in the woods. said...

Nature is wonderful
when it comes to healing.
Take care..

Mage said...

Just lovely, thank you so much.