Millstone Road Messages

         I take Millstone Road just about every day, sometimes more than once. The South Fork of eastern Long Island has a high ridge, a spine of woods and hills that runs east and west. Millstone Road bisects that ridge and runs a few miles through stands of hardwoods and a sparse collection of driveways and side roads with a few houses along the way. It's a lovely ride and never fails to ground me in some kind of peace.

                                                                     May 18, 2015

          At the wilderness men's experience I attended a few weeks ago, our leader, Belden C. Lane, invited us to listen and see what the creatures of the woods around us might have to teach us. Nature speaks, and speaks profoundly, he said,  if we can get quiet enough inside to listen. I am so often not that quiet. Also, the cynical and sarcastic part of me thought of Harve Presnell in the movie version of PAINT YOUR WAGON singing, "I Talk to the Trees." That's where my mind can go. Luckily, my heart had some other ideas beyond smart-ass. In those days in the high hills of West Virginia, I heard several deep lessons from the forest creatures that still echo in my heart. I decided to see if I might get any similar messages driving along Millstone Road.

     So one morning last week, I set my intention as I drove up the road to Bridgehampton. I promptly let my mind wander off to a pleasant thought about a woman friend. Suddenly, a beautiful deer, a big doe, dashed in front of my Highlander, narrowly missing me. "Wake up! Pay attention!" I clearly heard her say in my head, and I could have sworn she looked at me disapprovingly. So I started to pay attention and get present. The trees are still filling out their spring clothing of buds and leaves, and were telling me to stand tall, grow, and put forth life in some new ways today. Three turkeys poked about alongside the road, and their lessons were about being crafty and industrious. The little birds flitting in and through the trees and across the road were saying, "Be swift and try to be a grace note in this life." A final thought as I came out of the woods part of the road to some meadow areas: the life of this beautiful woods draws food and energy from the dead leaves and branches that fall to its floor and decompose. New life, born in part out of death. An Easter thought.

     Thank you, my Millstone Road teachers. I'll try to be a better listener and observer so as not to miss what I am constantly being offered. So much to learn and hear and see. Deo gratias.