There is something bigger than fact: the underlying spirit, all it stands for, the mood, the vastness, the wildness. ~Emily Carr
I adore Emily Carr. Her art, her life, her wildness. I adore this quote too. And my wild child clambering to get at it.
Ironically perhaps, this is in a not so wild place, the Capilano Suspension Bridge. Where forest meets human. It’s an absolutely fantastic place to visit, though you won’t get much wild. Unless you count the tacky tourists taking tacky photos.
But what it does do, is give its visitors a sense of wonder. A sense of understanding. A sense of the spirit and energy the forest provides. It educates us and allows us to explore and appreciate the value and necessity of the woods. Bonus points for the thrilling bridge walk and treetop jaunt.
Bal commented that he wished we could take the time to read the plaques and information about the forest. With two little ones running amok, there was no reading. Only later does it occur to me that following our kids lead taught us even more.
When they see thisthey do not throw out a casual “Oh, that’s cool!” like Mommy. No, they sense something more I think. Brennyn is drawn to them, not in fear or even amazement, but with the feeling of something bigger. Spirit perhaps.
When Kaya was little she looked up at the swaying trees and told me “Move it, move it” her way of telling me the trees were dancing. Today Brennyn looks up, points and grunts, her way of telling me the same thing. They do not need labels to feel the energy of the forest.
Every week when Kaya is in preschool, Brennyn and I take a walk. Brennyn does not enjoy the stroller so by walk, I mean both of us walking. It makes for a very short in distance, but looong in time saunter through the trails. Long because she seems to want to talk to every tree we pass. She high-fives them, leans against them, looks up at them as if waiting for a ‘Hello!’
Or maybe they are talking. Probably they are. Kids know things we have no clue about.
It is no different at the Capilano park where she grunts and points and embraces the nature around.Then the whole family gets involved.My tree huggers, thanking the tree for its support and help in educating the masses. The tree answers. In its own way.
The trees are whispering to me, reminding me of my roots, and my reach… shhhhhh… can you hear them? Selflessly sharing their subtle song. ~Jeb Dickerson