Grief in the Groves
In September, we lost a beloved family member. It had been a long time since I faced death so closely and it shook me to my core. We spent a month in Poland trying to pick up the pieces of our fractured lives and make sense of the gaping holes in our hearts. Some of us turned to companionship, others physical exercise, and myself toward nature. We frequently visited the forests to ease our aching hearts and I thought I would share some of the contemplations I recorded during my walks.
The Old Grove Forest
I am alone today, slowly shuffling along the dirt trail as grief weighs on me. The solitude of the forest begins to calm the anxiety that has built up over the recent days, but it seems improper to accept the respite that starts to wash over me. Looking around, I notice clusters of trees that appear to be of the same species and perhaps the same root system. They bend and bow towards each other, reminding me of sisters whispering secrets to one another. I smile warmly thinking of how nice it would be to chat with these ladies and share the day’s stories or lean on each other for support.
The forest is a lush emerald green, with a thick carpet of forest floor debris that barely sees the sunlight through the canopy foliage. It is quiet except for the delicate clatter of a single leaf as it tumbles onto the pile of its floral brethren. One of the unique characteristics of the trees in this forest is that their trunks are long and slender, with minimal foliage until the upper limbs. They stretch high into the sky, dwarfing me with the presence of a council of elders passing judgement. Amidst all my transgressions, what will be their verdict?
The strands of an intricate spider web glitter to my left and as I trace the geometrical lines with my eyes it dawns on me how important art is. The elegance of this moment, the richness of color and light, and the emotional intensity of my heart yearn to be expressed. When executed properly, art invites others to participate in your experience and create a connection of humanity. I wonder if others in grief are feeling the same paradox of despair and hope as I am while I watch the shadows of leaves shifting in a hazy murmur over the moss-covered roots. How could I possibly convey the melancholic beauty of this moment to those not present with me? Will my written words and meager photos be enough to express all I wish to share?
Perhaps it’s just the present circumstances, but my world feels frozen, breathless, contemplative, as I struggle to sort out my journey through grief. I pass a lone runner and later a small family of three. I wonder if they are experiencing the forest in the same way I am, or if they’re moving too fast to appreciate the subtleties of nature. Can they hear the reverberations of a branch cracking underfoot? Or what about the woodpecker rattling on a nearby dead tree? Do they feel the chill and intrigue as two hawks cry out to each other across the forest?
A Jungle of Thoughts
Today I have discovered a new area of the Old Grove Forest. Unlike the trails I walked before, here it is a wild jungle, with almost every inch bursting with foliage and undergrowth. The trail is thin and the trees engulf me in a vibrant green embrace. Leaves rustle nearby, and at first I think it’s the wind. When I stop to listen for a moment, I realize that it is dozens of tits fluttering between the trees and gently shaking the branches as they land.
There is so much to take in, my eyes don’t know where to stop. Should I look upwards towards the Eurasian Jay eagerly pecking away at a dead tree trunk for bugs inside? Or perhaps I should gaze straight down the long tunnel of trees to the singular trunk that has collapsed across the road, it’s split near the base but not fully cracked through.
It’s a cloudy day and no sunlight reaches the forest floor. The shades of green blur into a muddled mint-green palette from the moss and lichen clinging to the bark. I feel ignorant about tree species as I look around the forest. There are many textures of bark and shapes of the leaves. I wonder eagerly what species each of them are. Although my first encounter felt rather ominous, I have grown to see the unusual beauty that abides here. This forest has a personality that is hard to put into words, but I learn a little more each time I come.
Life and Death
Padding along with my existential thoughts, I begin to notice the stages of life and death around me. On a single leaf I see the transition exemplified in bright streaks of green, gold, and brown. Beneath my feet lies a collection of dark chocolate leaves decaying over the preceding days and mushrooms clawing their way up rotted tree trunks.
I can’t help but marvel at how beautiful this metamorphosis is when its actualization in my personal life feels so tragic. Perhaps I will be able to reflect on this moment with a similar fondness once the pain has passed.
The Korzeniowy Dół Gorges
While navigating the stages of grief, I once again feel jarred by today's trip to a gorge just outside Kazimierz Dolny. It is a beautiful sunny day with bright blue skies, clear sunshine, and a pleasant vibration of summer insects and birds rushing about in the air. It is a complete juxtaposition to the dreary weight pulling at my gut, threatening to anchor my feet in place and drown me in sorrow. Yet here we are at the mouth of a deep gorge, with hardened dirt packed beneath our feet and earthen walls on either side of us.
It doesn't take long before I feel like an intruder. Thick exposed roots cling to the dirt walls, and massive tree trunks jut upward into lush canopies. I feel as though I've peeked under the Mother Nature's skirt and glimpsed the intimate secrets of her woodland growth. The dirt is soft as powder and flutters off easily at the slightest scrape of a finger. It astonishes me that the trees haven't fallen over with how exposed they are in the weakened soil. I feel as fragile as this dust — one scrape and I'll crumble apart. But my roots are likely as deep and strong as these trees, able to endure and even flourish despite the erosion of life's challenges.
Nature Watch
In an effort to keep my spirits up, I didn’t neglect my duty as a naturalist to record new observations, so here is my collection from this time.
