Introduction: During this season of giving thanks and giving gifts, I want to share several excerpts from my book, “Soul of the Outdoors,” which was released at Christmas a year ago. For the holiday season, the book will be available through me at a special price. See information at the end of this post. The following is the introduction, “Sometimes the Best of Times,” for the November-December segment of the book. Enjoy.
I was in a tree swaying to the rapid rhythm of nature’s breathing when it hit me. Not literally, though I suppose a branch could have let loose in the chesty November wind and knocked me on the noggin.
What hit me was that my autumn of blue skies, dazzling leaves, calm afternoons and the passing of migrating geese was over. Now all I could see and feel was fall ending. I saw it through bare branches as I stared in vain for a deer to appear. I felt a chill run through my body from the wind and clouds as the sun was slinking to the southwest.
There was little bird activity, though two chickadees came within whispering distance, and a blue jay squawked, irritated by something. Maybe me. Or maybe the warning of winter in its bones. At times the bursts of wind scattered the hunt’s focus while delivering the sounds of the countryside putting to rest this late autumn day
A cow bellowed at the farm in the valley, perhaps at feeding time, just before milking time. A dog barked, at the farm on the other side of the field. A car slowed at a driveway, and the dog barked with more gusto. And then there was quiet as a car door slammed and, I was sure, a dog’s tail wagged.
Children’s laughter and shouts rippled across the picked cornfield to my spot at the confluence of field and forest. The voices fell mute, and I imagined supper was ready. From another field I heard a tractor revving and clanking to load a round bale of hay before groaning out of hearing range.
Darkness gathered rapidly. I climbed down from my stand. I had heard the countryside preparing for the night, and I had heard the whistle of winter in the wind. The whistle would only get louder from here on, with the days passing rapidly as we hurtle toward Thanksgiving, a new month, the magic and memories the first snowfall brings, holiday music and gift shopping, and the winter solstice.
(The second half of this piece will appear closer to Christmas, as it is a Christmas Eve story about a boy and his father, a find of honey in the woods, and a farmhouse warmed by a Christmas Eve meal in the oven.)
Note: Want to read more nature essays such as this? Thr0ugh the holiday season, “Soul of the Outdoors” is available through me at the special price of $17. For a personally-signed book, email, text, or call me at davegreschner@icloud.com or 715-651-1638. The book is also available at regular prices through online book sellers, and at Wisconsin bookstores in Rice Lake (Old Bookshop), Eau Claire (Dotters), Menomonie (Dragon Tail), Hudson (Chapter2Books), Spooner (Northwinds), Three Lakes (Mind Chimes), and Bayfield (Honest Dog), and in Duluth, Minn., at The Bookstore at Fitger’s.
The story takes me back to my own hunting days!