The soft rains of early May come and go, pass and move on, like mild surf on a quiet beach. I look up now and then from my desk, toward the edge of the roof at the foot of a valley, to gauge their intensity, rejoicing that my roof doesn't leak and the systems of the house are, at least for now, working. The news from beyond the edge of the property is both encouraging (Vermont) and horrific (India). Kiki and I, warm and dry, wait to be let out. I putter with projects in the shop and dream of travel; she varies from apparent deep sleep to occasional noisy patrols of our perimeter.
Like many of you, I've found myself reading a great deal more than usual this past year. The newspapers and magazines flow in faster than I can row; books keep turning up on the back porch; and the average length of the e-mails to be answered seems to have at least tripled. This combination of increased (and often thoughtful) reading material and solitude leads to a dispute with Longfellow: It's not just the thoughts of youth that are long, long thoughts. Sitting with my dog on the back porch between fiveses and supper, the northing sun now peeking around the corner of the house and warming both of us, I wax what I fancy is philosophical – though I've never asked or determined how profound a casual thought has to be before it's dignified as "philosophical."
It's pretty quiet out on the back porch, The house is between us and the road, and there's not much up behind for quite a way but an abandoned beaver swamp. Everybody's pretty much tucked into his own house and existence, and somebody from away might interpret that apparent hermetic seal as typical of the famous frosty Yankee spirit. That would be a mistake. The fact is that we just don't pry. It's not that we don't wonder; we just figure it's your business until you mention it. I know that if my neighbors or friends heard that I had any needs or problems I couldn't take care of myself, they'd be here in a heartbeat. All of us, I suspect, are surrounded by friends.
Boxing up some books and CDs for delivery to the library, I came across a small paperback volume, printed over 100 years ago, of essays by Charles Dudley Warner, a friend and sometime collaborator of Mark Twain. Warner spent vacations in the eastern Adirondacks, where I lived for a time, and this little booklet, In the Wilderness, is a result. One long essay, "A Character Study," describes Orson Schofield "Old Mountain" Phelps, a Keene Valley guide whose eccentricities and witticisms became far more famous, eventually, than his skills as a guide. A Republican, free-thinker, and devotee of Horace Greeley's weekly rural edition of the New-York Tribune (which he apparently pronounced "Try-Bune"), he once declined, during the terrible drought of 1903, to attend a prayer meeting because "ain't no use prayin' fer rain while the wind's in the northwest."
In the forest, he was among friends. Raised in the woods and at home in them as none of us will ever be, he spent hours, sometimes, watching things happen – like the maple tree that on a still fall day suddenly dropped all its leaves – and tried to make sense of them. "Waal," he said in that instance, "I suppose its hour had come."
The woods that Kiki and I walk almost every day have become the friendliest of places. We meet other walkers and dogs whom we've come to know – Andrea and Bella, Tim and Chandler, Tom and Sadie, Robert and Blue – and almost always there's the question, "How you doing?" with the second half of the question unspoken. I feel surrounded by caring friends.
Today, as a single pale yellow daffodil bloomed in my wife's Virgin Mary garden (Mary stands atop the well head, surrounded by perennials), the first two black flies of the year buzzed around my face. In the park, we climbed a trail to a beautiful stone bench built in memory of an infant boy who lived only eight days. The plaque beside it bore Wendell Berry's words – "I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief."
We rose from the bench and continued to climb. I stopped for a moment, as increasingly I do, and looked around me. Within a 20-foot circle were six dear friends: the little terrier who never leaves my side for more than a minute, and my pals red oak, yellow birch, hard maple, beech, and big-toothed popple. This was my crèche, and it's where I hope to live forever – among friends.
Photo Credit: Joe Klementovich
UPCOMING EVENT - Sunday, October 6, 2024 - Trail Mixer 2024 Windows to the Wild Event
WINDOWS TO THE WILD WITH WILLEM LANGE is generously supported by the Alice J. Reen Charitable Trust and the Bailey Charitable Foundation
Willem Lange’s wardrobe is generously donated by The Kittery Trading Post
Fifty years ago, a group of citizens stopped the development of an oil refinery.
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Thanks to our podcast partner: The Marlin Fitzwater Center for Communication at Franklin Pierce University
Adventure journalist Freddie Wilkinson and a group of indigenous paddlers set out.
We rejoin adventure journalist Freddie Wilkinson and a group of indigenous paddlers.
A team of researchers study the effects of human interactions with Canada Jays.
Willem Lange and a group of New England travelers explore the beauty and culture of France.
The Gulf of Maine offshore wind farm could become New England's next source of renewable energy.
Elevate Youth empowers youth to explore the outdoors and promotes environmental stewardship.
Gregory Rec and his daughter Corrina love hiking together.
Myah Rather is a Meteorology and Atmospheric Science student from Maryland.
Joe Klementovich travels along Maine's rivers on a paddleboard.
Marshall Hudson writes stories about interesting and often forgotten places and people.
Scarlett, also known as "Little Foot" has hiked all 48 of New Hampshire's 4,000 footers.
Mirna Valerio does it all. She runs, hikes and skis. She encourages others, no matter who they are.
As an NHPBS member, you'll be among the first to experience it.
Randy Pierce lost his sight in 2000, but not his determination to keep hiking.
Dogtown, part of the forgotten forests of Cape Ann, Mass.
Wildlife videographer Alfred Balch heads into the woods with Willem.
Find out what attracts our feathered friends to this special spot.
Host Willem Lange takes viewers on a ride along the Scenic RailRiders track in Concord, NH.
A North Conway, NH family shares what they learned about the effects of climate change.
Willem and Wendy Lull explore and discuss ways to record and preserve life on the coast.
Willem goes looking for moose with long-time moose researcher Charles Willey in Colebrook.
A trip along Vermont's Long Trail.
Join host Willem Lange on a tour of a Cambridge oasis -- the Mount Auburn Cemetery.
Willem and a group of people from throughout New England took a trip through Ireland.
What do you do with a section of 170-year-old abandoned railroad track?
Melissa Elam has hiked all of NH's 4,000-foot mountains with her cat, Floki.
A North Conway family shares what they learned about the effects of climate change.
Gabriel Andrus will ski from the northern border of NH to its southern border this winter.
There are gems in the hills. Host Willem Lange learns there's a lot to rock hunting.
Arlette Laan is the first woman to hike all eleven of the National Scenic Trails.
Kayaker Betsy Wish set out years ago to meet the people who catch our lobsters.
The Manchester Cedar Swamp Preserve is considered an ecological gem.
Host Willem Lange is at sea on the American Eagle schooner.
WINDOWS TO THE WILD's good friend and Outdoor Enthusiast, Chaya Harris from Outdoor Afro.
Getting outdoors is important but its also important to be safe.
Competitive rower Erik Frid takes a break from competition to row 300 miles.
Susie Spikol is a naturalist at the Harris Center for Conservation Education.
New Hampshire resident Susan Dromey Heeter is competitive.
Mt. Eustis Ski Hill opened in 1939 and was a community gathering place until it closed.
David Krueger is a Language Specialist / Interpreter, you may have seen him.
Redline guide Ken Hodges hikes with Debby "Bear Repellent" Roberts.
Willem hikes with partners and participants of Summits in Solidarity.
The Lifesaving Station at Wood Island was used for sea rescue prior to the Coast Guard.
The Lifesaving Station at Wood Island was used for sea rescue prior to the Coast Guard.
Conway photographer Joe Klementovich uses a paddleboard to explore 130 miles of the Saco.
Students attend school aboard a schooner.
Join us for an all new season of Windows to the Wild with Willem Lange! Wednesdays at 7:30
Host Willem Lange is with friends on the Tucker Mountain trail in Vermont.