Touch The Earth
Sometimes you do things just to relieve anxiety, personal anxiety about matters you can do nothing about. Some call it communing with nature, and perhaps that is what it is, a reminder of where we come from, what we are bonded to, a fount of serenity in an otherwise-unserene world.
Hard to believe that we, who so love the out-of-doors and whose commitment to spending as much of our leisure hours outdoors as possible, have not yet gone up to our beloved Gatineau Park yet this year. So, despite the weather, or even because of it, we decided to do just that today. We've been "enjoying" day after day of unrelieved 30+ degrees and it's hot, to say the least. Mostly sunny, some light breezes which alleviate the heat, but it is, definitely the dog days of summer.
Environment Canada forewarned of the good likelihood of pop-up shower and thunderstorms, and we could indeed see what looked like thunderheads in the far distance, but forged on nonetheless, stuffing my backpack with rainjackets (even two tiny foldup brollies), leashes for the dogs, water for the dogs, and DEET-flavoured skin lotion for aerial bloodsuckers.
We were even curious whether taking Button and Riley back on old familiar hiking trails they haven't yet encountered this year might conceivably bring the little guy out of his seeming state of perpetual lethargy. He continues to trail behind us on our daily hikes, languorously making his way in the rear, unperturbed by our urgent calls to pick up speed. When we'd introduced them to "new" trail experiences in New Hampshire in June they had both seemed eager and interested and he led the way in exploration of unfamiliar trails. Leading us to believe he might be bored with the known and familiar.
On the way to the Larriault Trail we encountered a good number of bicycling enthusiasts and few cars. A large doe ambled alongside the road at one juncture and we were pleased with this omen of a good day ahead. At the sides of the road, where the forest was set back, lovely patches of pale, soft purple thyme brought colour to the fore, with daisies, buttercups and Queen Anne's Lace behind.
Parking the car, Button and Riley, who had taken turns sleeping peacefully on the drive or clambering over me to take turns at window watch, now both whined in anticipation of a familiar routine. It's fairly certain they had no trouble orienting themselves to where we were, and they were frantic to leave the car and set out on the day's adventure. They sniffed and snuffled everywhere, happily relieving themselves and thrusting forward up the beckoning trail. It didn't take long, however, for Riley to begin hanging back as usual, although not disinterested in where he was, paddling along.
The first half of the hike felt relatively cool, given the oppressive heat, thanks to the bowering canopy above us. It was clear that a thunderstorm had passed within an hour of our arrival, since the trail was still damp and low-growing flora still sported droplets on their broad leaves. We heard the rough call of a raven as we approached the first of the lookouts over the Ottawa River and the farmland below. Later, the sweet song of a thrush followed us as we made our way through a trail made narrower by the lushness of the foliage of a mid-summer forest encouraged by all the recent rains, the heat of the atmosphere.
Making our way down to a bridge over a stream, one of several we would pass, but the most accessible, Button swiftly took refuge from the heat, having first refused our offer of bottled water, to her preferred alternative, the clear rushing water of the stream. Delicate black-winged, iridescent-bodied Damselflies flitted here and there, looking for insects to devour; mosquitoes and black flies, and we silently congratulated them on their impeccable choice of comestibles. We're guarded about the possibility of gardia infection from the stream water, but she so enjoys the relief of the cold water swirling around her legs we haven't the heart to deny her that pleasure. Riley isn't the water dog that Button is, preferring to skirt the opportunities that she relishes.
We do pass several groups of hikers, but they represent a mere handful of people, relative to the numbers who could conceivably access this wonderful recreational opportunity, the fulsomness, the green abundance of nature, this pleasure of clean, clear air and the sounds and sights of the natural world surrounding us. Half-way through our hiking venture the heat seems more apparent, obviously partly due to our uphill exertions of which there are many, and we begin to drip with perspiration. Almost completed the hike we hear a not-too-distant thunderclap and pick up our exiting speed.
Alas, when we finally arrive back home, the news of the conflict in the Middle East still awaits us. Now it is our garden which offers solace.
posted by Pieface @ Saturday, July 15, 2006
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