On Saturdays I go to what I call "Rewild School," which is basically a group of friends getting together to hang out in the woods somewhere. Sometimes we practice tracking by looking at animal scat and prints, sometimes we gather wild edibles like nettles, sometimes we play awareness/tracking games similar to hide and go seek. This weekend, we went down to a patch of woods by Reed College and where suppose to play some games. I was sick, so instead of playing with the rest of the group, I found a comfortable Hemlock tree that grew in such a way that there was a prefect little "bed" on it's trunk, and it was in plain view of a hunting Great Blue Heron.
For about two hours, I watched the Great Blue Heron stalk it's prey. The Great Blue Heron is a special bird to me, since nearly everywhere I've lived in the country have been close to water sources where Blue Herons live. It was fascinating to watch how the heron will sit almost absolutely still for up to five minutes, with just it's eyes blinking as it intently watches the water below it. Then, like a cat twitching it's tail right before a pounce, the heron's neck will start twitching and bobbing a little, probably getting it's neck in just the right position to strike. Then "whoosh!" The heron snatches a little frog, fish or worm from the water, and "gulp," down the little critter goes. In the course of two hours, probably ten or so little critters disappeared down the heron's gullet. The heron and I watched each other a bit too; the heron lived in a place frequented by joggers, dog walkers and wanderers. He or she was used to foot traffic, and so wasn't too bothered by me. But he or she did seem curious about my extreme stillness too; from time to time, I felt as though he was watching me sort of quizzically, like "what is she doing?"
The tree was comfortable, the sun was warm, the heron was magic. I began to drift off to sleep by the end of my vigil there. I began to feel better about life; about moving into a minivan, about not having a secure job or plan or place to live; as I watched the heron, I was struck with the simplicity that is life; all that the heron was worried about was eating, keeping warm enough, staying out of the way of predators and obviously reproducing. I realized, as I sat there, that my needs are the same as the heron's; and really, beyond getting those needs met, we humans shouldn't ask for anything more. That is the trouble behind all of this environmental shit that we're in; we are much, much too greedy.
Later, I watched a movie about dervishes from that mystical branch of Islam called The Prince Who Contemplated His Soul. Again, I was struck with how bare the actual bare necessities are; the movie was about this gathering that happens among the mystics every thirty years or so, and it showed ragged mystics traveling with all of their worldly possessions with them, which included a staff, ragged clothes, a jug of water and a little bag with eating utensils and leftover food in them. This movie was great for a variety of reasons, but again, I was struck with how much I have (even as a broke-ass college student, couch-surfing punk houses,) how much unnecessary items I own and how much unnecessary shit I think I still need.
So today I've been purging stuff; taking box after box of stuff down to the free store a few blocks from my house, and man, does it feel good to donate unnecessary books, shoes and clothes while moving things I deem necessary into my new van-house.
Love ya,
Carrot
