Go Wild in Tennessee: backpacking

Showing posts with label backpacking. Show all posts

Sunday, February 9, 2014

The Flavor of Seasons

Seasons flavor hikes.

Something wonderful happens when you go to an oft-visited spot and the scenery morphs - completely changing in every facet - based on the time of year you visit. Let's take my Snow Pocket. In spring and fall its raging waters beckon to kayaks (and hikes). In summer, the cool, deep pools call to casual swimmers, whisper of picnics, and sooth hike-weary feet. In the winter, the shades of water capture blues meant for far-off seas and the landscape transforms again into a stark and crisp reflection of itself.

It was fitting that the sky was spitting snow as we traversed the Snow Pocket. This hike - my longtime favorite - never fails to enchant me with childlike wonder. Its hard to not feel small and inconsequential when walking among the fallen titans of rock that still stand like great monolithic scars of bygone eras. This area is magical... an outdoor cathedral of

contrast. The scars of man-made walls, black coal-dusted soil, concrete foundations for long rotted bridges and open arches of mine shafts forcibly nudge reminders of an industrial area not long ago. But nature perseveres. She has taken back the land and slowly... methodically... she unmakes our "progress" and deconstructs our obsession for dominance.

The freezing temperatures provide new sights. The innocuous, normally unnoticed seeping trickles transform into spires that catch and hold the imagination as efficiently as they do the water. The far-flung spiked seeds of a sweetgum beg to tempt agony from less-protected feet. How can the same place - a place I know better than any single stretch of wilderness - have so many facets? How can her personality shift so eloquently?

My point - yes, I do have one! - is that you can't (or shouldn't) simply check places off of some proverbial "to do" list. Nature abounds with surprises... a good rain on a summer day can alter an entire landscape. Yes: Seasons add distinct flavors. Life isn't always about a "been there, done that" mentality. If you limit your experiences in nature to a single visit, you limit your scope of understanding and appreciation. Nature is like a dear friend... one that must be seen in different light, under varied circumstances, and having different temperaments to truly know her, to see her, and to allow her to share the depths of her splendor.

See more imagery from this trip:

Stephanne Dennis is an outdoor enthusiast extraordinaire. A highly skilled backpacker and apex predator specialist, she shares her love of the outdoors with her unrivaled writing skills and her faithful companion, Bandit McKaye, her Anatolian Shepherd. She is currently studying Wildlife Biology at Oregon State University and dedicates her time and skills to the Tennessee Wildlife Resources Agency and the Tennessee Wildlife Resources Foundation.

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

The Patriarch

There are few things as splendid as following a lonely mountain road that twists and curves as it follows a meandering stream across the valley floor. That is, until you reach a trail head and begin a journey into a place where the loudest voice is the whispering wind chasing secrets through the seasoned bare branches of the trees.

A quick 1.3 mile jaunt brings me to a waterfall... the stubbornly relentless thrum of white cascades carving the timeless stone face of the falls. I lose myself in the sounds, focusing on nothing. Then a patch of too-green moss clinging to a dampened alcove in the rock draws my attention. To the side, an off-cast trickle seeps, dwarfed by the boisterous falls. Regardless of the differences, all of this works in a symphony to forge a basin that beckons to tired feet and sweaty brows. This is where most travelers stop, take their rest, and then return to their cars. But there is always more beauty bestowed on the less-traveled trail.

Where the asphalt ends and the trail continues, the anticipatory element of surprise calls like a long lost friend, drawing me onward. I am lost... not literally, but figuratively in the surroundings that bring me the most peace.

The forest.

The crisp smells of winter air.

The constant breeze that cools my skin and calms my heart.

I gaze around and the moss covered bones of once towering beacons of timber cause my pause. One more corner... just see what's there, around one more corner.

The bend in the trail is the one I was looking for, the one that enticed me to continue; I gaze in wonder at the stoic last virgin strand standing elegantly defiant against the odds. And there he was: The Patriarch among the elders. He was no longer a tree, he was a symbol of antiquity. His roots no longer staking a claim on the ridge but defining a mountainside. His bark a corrugated, fathomless shell giving testament of his age.

This wasn't a tree... this was a stark yet delicate poem that draws you in and moves you.

Savage Gulf - A Look Back at a Spring Trek

The South Cumberland and Savage Gulf offer a lot of options for the day trekker or for the serious hiker. With over 90 miles of trails and perfectly nestled between Nashville and Chattanooga, it's impossible to not consider Savage Gulf when looking for somewhere to go hike. The trails range from easy to very rugged and the lengths vary from 0.8 miles to 12.5 (one way).

Today we did a minor trek to Laurel Falls and Stone door. Laura Falls is so close to the ranger station that it's near impossible to not take the tiny .4 jaunt to see the falls. While they may be impressive during or after a rain, I was more impressed by the apparent sinkhole/mini-gorge that formed the falls than the falls themselves. Laurel Falls is a mildly challenging hike at worst, primarily because of the uphill slope on the way back to the ranger's station. However, the very short duration of the hike easily make's up for the small uphill.

From the ranger station the hike to Stone Door Bluff is about 0.8 miles one way. The trail is paved for the first quarter mile (to Laurel Overlook) and the remaining trail to the top of the bluff is quite maintained and very easily traversed. The bluff atop Stone Door offers a stunning view of the surrounding mountains. Keep in mind that there is no railing around the bluff, so one should keep a very close eye on kids, clumsy people like myself, etc. Also be sure that no one kicks/throws stones or anything from the top of the bluff as there are often climbers or hikers directly below. By my opinion, the hike to the Stone Door overlook is considered "easy".

The Stone Door is a really nifty structure with an absolute gem of a past (actually - there's amazing geological history to the region). The "Door" itself is a 10-foot wide crack in the sandstone rim that surrounds the entire valley and is, pretty much, the only easy way to get to the bottom. Tennessee State tells us that the 'door' was used by Native Americans as a means to get to hunting grounds. Walking through the seemingly tight expanse of rocks, one can feel the cool breeze and imagine the sounds of eons past. There are (wild guess) 75 stone steps that lead to the bottom of the door. The stones felt well placed and poles were not needed. At the bottom of the door, one can traverse down slightly further and then branch out to where the climbers would go. This section was rugged but very short (I believe there are steps created to go to this area, but a fallen tree made that a non-option). From the bottom of the bluff, one can feel a new appreciation for the 'do not throw/kick stones' sign above. The cool air blowing from the pitted areas of the bluff were a welcome feeling mid-day (the day we chose to go - May 30th - was unseasonably warm and hovering around 93-degrees).

As always, what goes downhill eventually has to go back uphill. We made the trek back up the steps and took another brief glimpse of the expanse of forests. It's worthy to note that while the area has never been logged, the trees don't grow to the grandeur that one may find in, say, Joyce Kilmer park in NC.

Overall the entire trek, including the unplanned trek around the base of the Stone Door Bluff, took no more than 2 hours (and, had we not stopped to bask in the sunlight on the bluff, likely 1-1.5 hours total). I would rate the Stone Door trail - including the steps to the base - to be 90% easy and 10% moderate. If you can't handle steps, then skip the aforementioned 10% and just enjoy the beauty of the bluff from atop.

Wildlife: We saw a very small black snake, typical squirrel, and a very gorgeous copperhead. We first came across the copperhead after a man coming out of the trail warned us of an "eastern diamondback that was across the trail up ahead". I snagged my cell phone (camera) and we trekked on. Not far ahead we discovered the "eastern diamondback" but rather than across the trail, he was nestled just at the corner of a wooden overlook 'pier'. The other embellishment was that he wasn't an eastern diamondback but, rather, a southern copperhead. Copperheads have a reputation as an 'aggressive' snake, but most of the time they are really quite docile. This little guy was maybe 1.5 feet long, so he was a young snake and hadn't found out the hard way that snakes laying on human structures don't usually have happy endings. So, I gently encouraged him to at least move to the grass next to the structure (he did with zero issue). On the journey back, I felt an urge to see if he had moved much and found the little guy peacefully wrapped up in a shaft of sunlight that was breaking through the trees. He was off the path (by a foot, maybe) so hopefully he remained safe. As for the hiker who said he was a diamondback?... I hope he learns to ID venomous snakes of regions he's hiking more throughly in the future. Never bodes well when, if it happened, someone tells the doctors you were bitten by the wrong poisonous snake. (And how someone mistakes a copperhead for an EASTERN DIAMONDBACK is beyond me... they [copperheads] get more often mistaken for corn snakes and vice versa, but at least those two resemble!)

My point of going to Savage Gulf today was actually to peruse the terrain casually as my next planned hike is the 25 mile (round trip), rugged Fiery Gizzard. I can't wait to review THAT one!

...Bring On the Fiery Gizzard! (wow... for some reason that makes me hungry)

Monday, December 9, 2013

Old Man Appalachian

Have you ever heard someone say the Appalachian Mountains aren't real mountains because they aren't really that big?

There's a radiant and rugged yet peaceful, old, and tired charm to the Appalachian Mountains. I've often been quoted as telling people it is my favorite little old man... Once a towering series of peaks that defined a supercontinent, standing proud and so resilient that nothing – not weather, not an eternity of time – could ever diminish these most formidable peaks. Yet now… epochs later… now those majestic peaks are relegated to a mere shadow of what they were. How small am I? How inconsequential do I feel when I walk with that little old man and see his life so clearly brandished around me? Let your mind wander and take a walk with me down one of my favorite trails… let me tell you about the old man I see contrasted by the colossal and invincible man that I know he was.

Walking down the trail, I come to a brook that dances with boulders as it rushes to meet the river in the gorge below. The boulders, some seem small compared to the neighboring house-sized ones, draw my gaze. They are remnants of something larger than my comprehension… goliaths that have fallen, coming to rest in the gulch hollowed out by the same brook they now cavort with. How high were they before? I can’t even fathom the size this ridge must have been.

I walk further, trekking to a section where the river – and now the trail – have exposed a wall of rock that likely contributed to some of the boulders in the river nearby. I stop and gaze to the top, marveling first at the trees and vines that grow ostensibly from the rock itself. I marvel at how life takes hold and grows so stubbornly from the very smallest embrace with a crevice. As the aura of wonder fades surrounding the flora growing so precariously above, I see the bluff as more… once connecting the two sides of the valley where the river runs through. It is here… here where I am compelled to close my eyes and see what the mind can even if the eyes don’t.

It was almost 500 million years ago… in a time we now call the Paleozoic Era. There was nothing but a hint of what would become North America… and that hint was the tip of my Aps. The Aps were bound to be epic… they were the very first Paleozoic mountain building event and, when plates collided and the North American plate won… the subduction of the oceanic plate helped heave the Aps upward. The Aps continued to strive upward over the next 250 million years. Continent after oceanic continent collided and joined with the North American plate as a behemoth continent called Pangea took shape. The collision pushed the Aps further (and also formed the Ozarks and other westward-lying ranges). Over the next few hundred million years, the Aps were worn down by the untold power of water… eroding the once World Heavy-Weight Champion down to a 90-pound, fragile, broken old man. The story is ancient – more ancient than we can feasibly grasp… yet his story is all around us.

The next time you’re walking – on any trail in the Aps – listen to the weathered, aged, and beaten old man’s story, look at his past… it’s an amazing past, indeed. Then, the next time you marvel at Everest or gaze in wonder at the Alps... remember what the little old man taught you: There is nothing that time cannot age and we - the specs of humanity - will never understand the true passage of time of our planet.

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Inspiration in Desperation

Seventy four minutes.

Yep. It took me 74 minutes to write the words seventy four minutes.

That's how long I have sat here fumbling....trying to get this initial blog outta my head.

Writing usually comes easy for me when I'm inspired. And though I'm inspired to write a really kick-butt initial blog for what I hope to be a long series of ramblings about all things good and wild, I can't help but feel uninspired by my surroundings.

Yes, here I sit, in the warm cozy comforts of my living room, well after midnight, draped in a fleece blanket, gas-fireplace masquerading as a long lost friend, and a trusty old Dell, ablaze on my lap bathing me in lukewarm artificial light. Don't get me wrong...'tis quite comfortable. Is it inspiring though? Not in the very least.

So what do I need for inspiration?

Simple...

I need my work.

I absolutely love my job. Hence, my job inspires me.

You see...I'm one of those lucky few that wake up in the morning actually wanting to go to work. Not only that, I'm that sick individual that prefers to think about work even when its well past quittin' time. I despise days off (Ha!...okay I'm lying) but I really do look forward to Mondays.

Call me blessed... Call me lucky... Call me spoiled... Call me crazy...

Yes... I am all of those.

Photo courtesy of nsrl.ttu.edu

Here's the scoop. Every since I was a wee little boy I loved the outdoors. I had an overly extreme fascination with animals. Drawing them came first. Next came the realization that you can learn really cool stuff about them. I think it was the first time I saw a litter of 'possums posing for a picture in the convex depression of a spoon, I was hooked. Though when I think about it now...I really don't think those poor little guys had much of a choice in getting their picture taken.

Deciding what to do with my life was never in question. When my Dad, bless his stubborn and sometimes crotchety soul, fought for me to get an offer at a pretty darn good paying factory job...it was a simple response I made... "I love you Dad, but I'm NOT following in your footsteps."

You see, you busted your butt your whole life to earn those few weeks vacation every year. You took me and the rest of your kids camping...and hunting...and hiking...and fishing. And you instilled my passions, my loves...my inspiration.

You knew everything there was to know about those wonderful animals I so loved. And believe it or not, it wasn't until I got to college that I finally realized your animal "facts" were.... well, not really full of many facts.

But I didn't care. I loved being in the outdoors and I promised myself, if I could live your vacation...that's exactly what I was going to do. And here I am...

Chief of Wildlife for the state of Tennessee...the greatest job in the world.

I live breathe, eat and sleep all things wild. I marvel at the fact that some days I walk in the door and I'm challenged with trying to find out how many bears are now calling the Cumberland Plateau home. A few days ago, after lunch, we discussed making groundbreaking discoveries of Indiana bat summer maternity roosts for the first time ever in middle Tennessee. Just today I debated on whether quail restoration and hog eradication are actually feasible. One of those is still up for debate. And tomorrow, I have to meet with the foresters to determine appropriate conservation measures that need to be taken in the Catoosa Savannah area to keep the area productive for grassland birds.

How cool is that?

Anyhow...I'm beginning to ramble...

Do I love my job?

Yes...Yes I do.

It inspires me.

Am I crazy?

Considering it is now 2:34 a.m.

...I'll leave that one alone.

Daryl Ratajczak is the Chief of Wildlife and Forestry for the Tennessee Wildlife Resources Agency. He is an avid outdoorsman enjoying all forms of outdoor recreation from hiking and kayaking to hunting and fishing. He is dedicated to protecting and managing all of Tennessee's wildlife resources and bringing the outdoors to all citizens of Tennessee.

Why Hiking? - by Stephanne

Photo on the Apps near Tellico Plains, TN by Stephanne

For anyone who loves the outdoors and physical activity, hiking is a sure thing to win your heart. Hiking is one of the great activities that is done in the wonders of the ‘wild’ that can be done solo, with a partner, or with a group. Hiking is a very easy way to get some serious steps, increase your energy, better your physical health, and really impact your life all together. A deep respect for nature develops quickly. Moreover, hiking really can improve your mental well-being as much as your physical well being.

Regardless if you’re new to hiking or a hiking aficionado, Tennessee (and the southeast) is a great place to be. If you’re new at hiking you can start on nature walks. (See “where to go” below.) Build experience on various trails and work your way to the big hikes that our region is known for. Hiking is a very easy hobby to start, the only bare-bones basics that you need are right shoes and a means to carry hydration – as simple as a bottle of water. As your experience and endurance levels increase, you can add gear slowly to grow with you. When you get to the multi-day, heavy terrain levels you’ll need a full pack. Here’s the average contents of my hiking pack:

The pack itself – my multiday pack is about 70L and my day pack is about 30L. The “L” stands for liters, which just tells you the overall capacity of your pack. Only my big pack is an internal-frame pack; however, both have full straps (don’t stress your shoulders – carrying a pack that has a waist strap is a MUST. Your hips are the best weight-bearing part of your body and you’ll feel a LOT better hiking with even distribution of weight.)
Med Pack – I keep my med pack in a thing called a “stuff stack” (various sized sack that you get to literally “stuff stuff” in). The contents of my med pack vary slightly based on the length and terrain I’m going to. It always has OTC pain killer, benedryl, ace bandage, band-aids, etc.
Water Bladder- 3L
Water filtration system – never drink stream/natural water unless it’s “that or nothing”. Natural water often has microscopic bacteria that can cause severe abdominal upset.
Trail food – light weight and packed with proteins and carbs. Hiking with a pack on heavy terrain burns a TON of calories, make sure your body has fuel!
Water flavor packs. This is one of my treats. I carry these to mix with water if I have to filter it from a stream. While filtered stream water often tastes just fine, the flavor packs help to mask any mineral flavor that may be present.
Rain gear – functional and lightweight. This includes a rain cover for my pack.
GPS, compass AND maps. I never take just one. I use the GPS because it offers a lot of really nifty features but I never trust battery-powered things 100%. Better safe than lost.
Flashlight and headlamp. I carry both all the time because, again, I don’t trust battery-powered things 100%.
If I’m staying overnight, I always have my hammock. It’s more lightweight than a tent and far more comfortable. But, a small tent is just fine for my daughter!
If I’m hiking in bear country I carry bear spray. Also, if I’m staying overnight in bear country I’ll take my bear canister (it’s a bear-proof canister for foods and anything that has an aroma of any kind)
Trekking poles – not a necessity but when you’re clumsy like me, it’s better to be safe.
Always take a very strong respect for nature and remember that what you pack in you also pack out. I also always try to pack-out any trash that I see while I’m on a hike.

PHOTO: Near Cherokee National Forest by Stephanne

If you’re wondering where to go, around this part of the country you have so many options it’s hard to settle on one. If you’re brand new to hiking try a nature walk like the 4.5 mile loop at Harrison Bay State Park. It has very easy terrain that is only occasionally broken by roots or rocks and the elevation variance is virtually nil. If you’re looking for a bit more of a challenge, try The Walls of Jericho (around 8 miles, I think) near Winchester, TN/Stephenson, AL. This hike offers good scenery and a relatively challenging elevation variance. If you live north of the city, try Laurel Snow Pocket Wilderness in Dayton, TN. It offers 2 different hikes, both found from the same trailhead (one is 9 miles r/t and the other about 5 r/t with different terrain for each). Want more wilderness in your hike? There are so many WMAs (Wildlife Management Areas)! (Check out regulations for WMAs before going!) Or try anything near the Cohutta/Cherokee parks that cross the GA/TN/NC lines (easy access near Springer Mtn, GA or Ocoee/Reliance, TN; heavy concentrations of bear). There are hundreds of trails in that area with varied lengths and terrains. The Benton MacCaye (pronounced mack-eye) goes through here; it’s a 300-mile trail). Are you ready to summit a
mountain? I recommend Rainbow Trail in the GSM Park, take the Rainbow Falls trailhead all the way to the summit of Mount Leconte from Gatlinburg stoplight #8 (apx 13 miles r/t, very difficult and I do NOT recommend this as a 1-day trip; there is a free group camp area/shelter at the top that you can use with reservations through GSM). Like I said, around here it’s not a matter of where to go, it’s a matter of picking one trail out of the variety available. (Of note, you can't take your 4-legged bud with you on Federal Park trails.)

What to expect out of hike really varies depending on where you go and the length of time you’re out. Always research where you’re going and what wildlife you may encounter (and how to react to said wildlife!). I’ve encountered rattlesnakes and bears (even been charged by a bear!) and knowing what to do when you encounter wildlife is a MUST. If you’re looking to start hiking and are new to it, join me someday for one of my group-led hikes at Harrison Bay. It’s an easy walk and four-legged, well-behaved leashed friends are welcome. If you’re looking for more, check out some local hiking clubs. I’m out at least twice a month hiking and always willing to share my passion for hiking with anyone!

NOW: go outside and play (responsibly!)

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Lost in a World of Hidden Enchantment - by Stephanne

Most girls would consider a weekend "good" if they got to do their nails, or their hair, or went shopping and found a perfect outfit, or maybe hung out with friends.

Me?... well, I don't know that I fall into the realm of 'normal girl'.

Most girls probably wouldn't enjoy the smell of week old, very ripe sardines or multiple chigger bites on each ankle or the tendency to say, "Uck, another tick" as they pull the parasitic little buggers off and char them with a flame.

Again... I don't know if I remotely qualify for the realm of 'normal girl'.

Most girls wouldn't considering hiking up relatively steep hills with a backpack, hiking back on the same steep hills after dark, or the constant humming of mosquitos and flies as fun. I'd venture that the vast majority wouldn't want to be out in the middle of nowhere-ville potential bear country toting a can of bear spray and a .22 on a good day; much less on a dreary, rain-prone weekend where the cloud-shrouded mountains hide even the most conspicuous landmarks. Yes,... most girls don't want to be in the woods... much less baiting bears to check for density and distribution.

Thank god I don't fall anywhere near, much less into, the realm of normal.

For the last two weekends I have been working with my bud(s) at the TWRA learning how to hang and distribute bear bait stations to see if we can't get a gauge on the bear density and distribution in the mid- to northern Cumberland Plateau region. The first weekend that we were out I was learning how to hang stations and it was educational. I admit that the biologists for TWRA are some amazing people and I learn so much every time I'm exposed to them (especially Daryl - THANK YOU!). The second weekend was primarily checking the bait stations and removing all traces that we had hung them. Let me tell you... this was the smelly part of the job. I pride myself on being someone who can handle quite an array of organic smells (generally it's the non-organics, like heavy perfume, that bother me) but I will admit that the smells we were hauling could singe the nose hair off a far more jaded person than I!

The one thing that was amazing about this past weekend was a discovery of an area that I can't say I had ever paid any attention to when I saw it on the maps. Usually parks 'annoy' me. They are too highly accessible and too perfectly manicured. But sometimes you're thrown a gem and this weekend was the most beautiful emerald I had seen in our state. We had only one bait station to hang this weekend and we crossed a 'river' in the big truck (quad on back) and, at first, I didn't see anything remotely special about the place. Trees going up a ridge, us parked in a chigger-filled field at the bottom. No biggie. We unloaded the ATV and packed up the gear and started through the field and up the trail. It wasn't even 30 seconds before the world transformed in front of me. I was transported from Tennessee to the wet, decaying, and uber-luscious greenery that defines the Pacific Northwest. Everything was alive from the amazingly high canopy to the moss-coated, decaying fallen trees. The most picturesque stream gurgled lazily through the middle of the enchanted area and it felt almost surreal. Perfect waterfalls cascaded down a 12-inch drop only to meander for a dozen feet to cascade again. The forest floor didn't crunch as you traversed it... it squished every so audibly as the water oozed from between the leaves underfoot. Ferns and mosses coated everything and, just when you thought it couldn't get any more enchanted, the sunlight would break through a cloud and burst through the canopy to highlight the stream or turn a fern from envy-inducing green to a blazing emerald. It was heart-breakingly beautiful and my recurrent quote was "Just leave me here". "For the week?" my guide would ask. "No... forever would be fine," was my reply. The serenity of that quiet mountain stream... until you experience something like that, you really don't know the splendor that nature hides from the mere mortal world.

Sadly, I couldn't be left there to fend for myself for the remainder of my years because there were GPS coordinates to mark and bait stations to hang. Near the top of our journey up the mountain I discovered something else that was new to me: a Legacy tree. I asked my TWRA bud what a Legacy tree is and he gave a round-about idea but we agreed it needed to be looked into more. Essentially, I wiki'd that a legacy tree is one very stout veteran tree that may be several hundreds of years old. Usually their size defines them, like a girth of over 9 ft 10 in (sometimes varies based on species) and have a very high conservation value. Sometimes the conservation value is dead limbs, hollows, rot holes, splits, etc. These are things that the normal human may see as bad or undesirable, but the value of those features to the immediate ecological area is astounding (because they turn into habitats for so many things). You can liken it to the tree of life in Fern Gully or Home Tree from Avatar, if you choose. If you had asked me to tell you where trees like this exist, I would have pointed you towards Joyce Kilmer - home of the Eastern epics - but it was so refreshing to find one in Tennessee. I leaned against it, staring up at the never-ending trunk as it reached regally towards the sky. In the Apps it is so easy to visualize the low, dense fog as it gently brushed the leaves at the top.

This was the top of the journey, the last of the stations to hang (albeit there were more to collect). Next weekend I am so pleased to know that I get to revisit my surreal forest and the Legacy tree (a chestnut oak, in case you were wondering!) and - although I have mixed feelings about the journey because it will be on foot - I will apparently be retrieving the data myself and get to daydream of being forever "lost" in enchantment...

...maybe I'll haul my camera next time and snap some shots for you? Hard to say... when I find places like this, it's VERY hard to get me to share!

Just in case I haven't mentioned it, I love that I'm not a normal girl!

Sanctuary - by Stephanne

Sanctuary... Google defines "sanctuary" as:

a place of refuge or safety
a nature reserve, such as "bird sanctuary"
a holy place, temple or church

How close can they come, yet miss it? How snugly can they skirt the point? Let's do the word some justice, shall we? Let's truly define "Sanctuary".

Sanctuary: ~~A place~~ (...no... not quite...)

Sanctuary: A holy place or refuge in nature.

A friend asked, "what is nature to you?" and the immediate thought and feeling that surfaced: Sanctuary. There is no place like the wild for me. It recharges me and resets my internal batteries... it melts my stress.... it transforms my life to a simple yet deeply rewarding time. Nature is my Sanctuary.

Who can argue the awe-inspiring sense of wonder and humility when viewing sunrise across an expanse of rugged, snow-capped peaks? Nature is my Sanctuary.

Who can negate the sense of peace and internal harmony as a babbling brook playfully dances with the rocks of a mountain stream? Nature is my Sanctuary.

Who can dispute the calm serenity of ocean waves rhythmically thrumming the ever-steady heartbeat of the earth, chorused by calling gulls? Nature is my Sanctuary.

Even the side of nature that scares us, yet is an integral part of this world, gives us a sense of awe with her raw power, beauty, and grace? Lightening messily scratching its light across the skies... volcanoes with their powerful bellows and blood of magma... twisting delicate ropes of destruction in tornadoes... the immense splendor of a hurricane viewed from space... the 'reclaimable energy' of floods or avalanches. Yes, even these capture us in wonder.

Nature, you see, is in our genes... etched into the very atoms that create us. We are part of nature and nature is a part of us. The benefits of being ensconced in that nature are numerous and immeasurable. Perhaps that oneness is why nature resets and recharges, inspires and enamors, instills peace and serenity? Regardless if your version of being in nature is a vista view from a car or the most hidden secret lakes and meadows shrouded in mountains and mist... nature is a sanctuary. It heals what wounds we cannot see... may not feel... and sometimes have not yet begun to fathom.

How? Why? It's simple...

...Nature is a Sanctuary.

...maybe you should find your sanctuary in nature...
just remember to take care of it.