Getting Out: I am sitting on Eric’s Bench atop Pine Ridge, one
of my favorite places in Henry Coe State Park.
This quiet spot, barely a half-mile from the visitor center, is
set among an unlikely stand of ponderosa pines and enjoys a
sweeping view for miles to the south and west. A waxing gibbous
moon and Jupiter dominate the now black sky. A thin slice of
searing red on the western horizon is all that is left of the day’s
light. This is a perfect time and place to sit and reflect.
I am sitting on Eric’s Bench atop Pine Ridge, one of my favorite places in Henry Coe State Park.
This quiet spot, barely a half-mile from the visitor center, is set among an unlikely stand of ponderosa pines and enjoys a sweeping view for miles to the south and west. A waxing gibbous moon and Jupiter dominate the now black sky. A thin slice of searing red on the western horizon is all that is left of the day’s light. This is a perfect time and place to sit and reflect.
I have just finished my second Thanksgiving dinner. For years now, volunteers and friends of Coe Park have gathered on the Saturday evening after Thanksgiving for another feast. Sixty people, wrapped in fleece against the cool evening, sat at picnic benches in the white barn under Coleman lanterns enjoying food and the fellowship of friends who share a common love of a wild place.
As I age, the idea and practice of giving thanks has a deeper and more poignant meaning. What I took for granted at 25 is a huge blessing as I approach 60. Back then, I was invincible, and I was sure that life would be one triumph after another. I have had my triumphs, but along the way I have also taken a few body blows that have rocked me to the core.
One particular moment in my life gave me perspective on the blessings that we all take for granted. I am not a widely traveled person, but I did have the chance to spend a month in Nepal and Tibet. We were there as tourists, but what I saw made me feel embarrassed by all that I have and the relatively inconsequential things I view as difficulties.
Imagine living a life where every day you work with the sole hope that you will be able to provide your family a meal at the end of the day. For many I saw, that’s all there will ever be. They will never have the very thing we strive for: A better and more secure tomorrow.
So, old age and a perspective adjustment from the Far East have given me a new appreciation for the simple but incredible gifts we have. Sitting on this bench under a clear starlit sky, one of those gifts is all around me. The time I have spent walking trails, sleeping under the stars and learning about the natural world has given me so much.
As I have grown familiar with the natural world, it has become a place that brings me solace when I need it. Right now, I am facing the toughest time of my life, and I don’t know what my world might look like in a year. But sitting here, I feel a very real comfort knowing that natural places like this and the doings of all its creatures will endure and always provide comfort.
This is just one of the reasons we need to protect natural places. They are sanctuaries that offer wisdom, comfort and peace to those who ask for it.
In Ken Burn’s recent documentary, “National Parks,” several contributors expressed a sentiment I have often felt, “I may never get to the remote wilds of Alaska, but I take great comfort in knowing it is there.”
I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving and that you are aware of just how many gifts you enjoy. And, as you get out on the trail, I hope you will find a friend there who gives you peace and comfort.
