Field Notes While Walking Buck Hollow Road in June

FIELD NOTES WHILE WALKING
BUCK HOLLOW ROAD IN JUNE

I write my wanderings in a notebook
resting on a locus fence post ‘desk,’
which I share with many insects and
a yellow spotted caterpillar, who,
no doubt, puzzles at my presence.

Today, a high wind runs atop these
green hills. A constant rush of sound
issues through trees, shrubs and grass,
all acting as a reed in nature’s wood-
wind instrument. A distant roar and a
nearer whoosh form a capacious
symphony in my ear. The wind
suddenly dies to an instant silence . . .
and then,  quickly returns.
Even in nature’s concert hall, there is
a pause between musical parts.

                              ❁
I then wonder how many insect, bird,
and animal lives are being wrought out
in the thick, grassy pasture waving at
my wandering feet. Which makes me
think of untold lives behind drawn
blinds in faraway cities, all played out
in small, hidden places. Out of site are
most of our stories, no matter their
place and time, never written down,
the majority left behind with the dead,
just like the forgotten family Buck,
who long ago gave its precious name
to this dusty country road.

                              ❁
I notice an oasis of lilac and wild rose,
a way station on the journey of  history.
The bones of this homestead lie quiet;
it is the way of time and circumstance.
For here a frost-scattered footing of
fieldstone lies buried within the roots
of these bushes--in soil that has lost
its memory of kinship with the family
who once planted in expectancy of              
an annual blessing.

                              ❁
Further down the road where a small

stream runs its way along side, and

the woods are thin and sun-dappled,

a toilet bowl sits like a giant porcelain
mushroom in the wet, mossy ground:
mans’ technology meets nature’s
running water, and becomes a picture
of contemporary rural America.

                             ❁
I have disturbed a small garter snake
sunning itself in the grass-line by the
stream. He lies quiet as a stick waiting
 for me to compose my jolted thoughts.
What are his jolted thoughts as he
warily surveys me, his little pebble-
like head arched slightly above his body,
his thread-like tongue testing the air
between us? Apparently, we have
agreed to be both mutually disturbed
and curious on this summer day, both
man and reptile concurring to move
on to the rest of our respective lives.

Reviews

[Lydia Shutter]

Thanks for taking us on the walk with you. The imagery is splendid. You are obviously a nature lover. Lydi**

[Crowley]

Flashes of Walden come to mind in this one. What a glorious walk through the place, the process, and the back drop. The thought of man and nature combining not in a way that is at odds, but that is peaceful and somewhat respectful. I think people forget that man is part of nature as well even though we have wreaked some havoc for sure. this was relaxing, beautiful, observant and an all around terrific write.

[kentuck14]

C,
Thanks for the insightful review. Conjuring up Walden ain't a bad commendation!
T

[Chris Shaw]

I really appreciated the detail in this write Tom, being a lover of nature myself. I would very much like to have taken that walk with you in June along Buck Hollow Road. No shortage of things to see. Lovely write.

Chris

[kentuck14]

Yeah . . . twas a good day in the country!
T

[Dave Brown]

This is absolutely wonderful and could easily apply to any countryside
I think autumn gives us a chance to thoroughly appreciate nature
Snakes bugs and fence posts, wonderful stuff Tom

[kentuck14]

Dave,
Appreciate your kind words and comment.
T

[Robert Trakofler]

wow the images you painted and your reflections in them are so complimentary I felt like i was planted inside your minds flow in this piece Kentuck! It was a flawless transition in your narrative voice to my eyes what a very fine write... good sir, I really liked the voice in this

[kentuck14]

Bunny,
I thought my head was itching due to allergies . . . turned out it was you inside my mind! Thanks for the kind review.
T

[Eilis]

This made me think of the narratives of John Muir and Thoreau. The close contact with nature and how that can make us think of how we connect to all that. I love the way the different sections feel like entries in a nature journal. That’s something we’ve been working on here, as my daughter is interested in being a naturalist, and the best thing I’ve learned from that is attentiveness.

Your poem exemplifies that sense of attentiveness for me. In that state we are not only seeing what is there, but amplifying what we see by connecting to it beyond the transience of a moment and preserving it.

You’ve preserved some wonderful observations here, Tom. I especially like the way it feels like one man alone with the rest of creation trying to puzzle it out, but more importantly just accepting it as it is. It’s lovely work.

Also love those little flowers between sections. That’s a nice touch.

[kentuck14]

E,
Thanks for putting this in the vein of Muir and Thoreau . . . high praise indeed. Yes, attentiveness is the only way to truly see nature and attentiveness beyond the scene is how we as humans can relate to the natural world around us.
Emerson said in his journal . . . few people can see nature. I am humbled that God has allowed me to truly exalt in his handy-work.
T

[John the Baptist]

A splendid word picture that puts the reader in the midst of a rural scene here. We also get a commentary on our own smallness and impermanence in the greater scheme of things. It is a picture of contemporary rural America, but the same lesson might be drawn from nearly abandoned shopping malls in suburbia. Time waits for none of us. A very thoughtful piece.

[kentuck14]

John,
Thanks for your high praise. It is most appreciated.
T

[jacob erin-cilberto]

again i am reminded of Vermont and walking through the pastures...too young to think of poetry then, or at least writing it....but i wrote a lot in my mind...and i love the concept of the fence post as the desk...
we might disturb nature in a way...but if we are careful and appreciative of it...i am sure it appreciates us as well.
j.

[kentuck14]

Well put J. This was in upstate NY. Thanks for the review.
T