The Way of the Wild (Hawkes)/The Winding Way to Woodcraft
The winding way is a pleasant way and this is partly because it is winding. The straight way on the other hand has no surprises because one can see so far ahead. But with the winding way it is different.
It is like Life full of surprises. One cannot tell what new thing he will stumble upon at the very next turn only a few yards ahead.
There are many kinds of winding ways, but all are interesting. The first winding way that the good people of Boston knew was a cow path, upon which they finally builded their main street. It is rather amusing to think that perhaps a frisky calf may have struck out the first thoroughfare of the great city.
The winding way may be also an old wood road running far back into the timber land. I know many such and they are all interesting. This is because they go twisting and winding in and out to accommodate themselves to the timber and the unevenness of the ground. Then in the early days there were Indian trails and deer paths in our northern country. The Indian trails were finally used by the settlers for bridle paths and the cows often followed old deer paths to the best water-holes. Many of the great streets of the world's greatest cities were formerly but stage-coach approaches to a small trading post. Such was one of the great avenues of New York in the days when the first John Jacob Astor brought down beaver pelts from Albany on his back and traded with the Indians for the first few dollars of the Astor fortune.
Almost no railroad has ever climbed a high mountain chain but what the adventuresome traveler was there before the railroad riding a faithful pony up a steep bridle path. The prairie schooners of the early days marked the way for the mighty transcontinental railroads which to-day connect the Atlantic and the Pacific seaboards. But when the railroad and the smooth straight macadam road take the place of the winding way, they spoil it for the nature lover. This is because they straighten all its crooks, go round its steepest climbs, and despoil much of the adjacent landscape in so doing. There is no great gain in this old world that is wholly without loss. So all the improvements which man seeks to perpetrate on nature take away something from her primitive beauty. Of course we all appreciate the telephone and the telegraph, but a telephone pole always looks out of place along a country road.
So to-day for your winding way, you will have to go back away from the beaten tracks to the less cultivated or civilized country, country that is too poor or too out of the way for the invasions of civilization. There you will still find many a cow path and old wood road, twisting and winding on its devious way. It will not matter much what season of the year you go, there will always be something interesting.
If it is springtime the arbutus will arrest you with its fragrance even before you find its vine deep hidden in the grass and dead leaves.
If you are not so fortunate as to discover this rare wild flower, then the hepatica, the anemone, the bloodroot, or perhaps a shadbush will make the pathway glad. The first birds will be singing and nesting. The squirrels scolding and frisking and all the woods glad and glorious in the scant illusive dress of springtime.
If it is summer the path will riot with beauty and glory. Flowers and fruit will be ready for the picking, berries that the birds planted and flowers that were sown by the winds of heaven.
If it is autumn you will have to vie with the squirrels in a mad scramble for nuts. On every hand you will see the promises of summer fully redeemed, for nature pays all her notes. A carpet of brown, russet and gold will rustle beneath your feet, while the campfires of autumn will burn brightly along the watercourses, on soft maple, and stag-horn sumac.
Even in winter this winding way will be beautiful. The new snow will gem all its trees and weeds with ridges of pearl. The plumes of the evergreens will look like white caps and flowing gowns. Blue shadows will steal from behind the trees, perhaps to accent a very red sunset.
So the winding way is beautiful and wonderful in all seasons. I advise each of my readers to seek it as often as possible. It will rest your tired nerves more than sleep and its bracing air is the very best tonic.
Breathe deep breaths of pine and balsam, or the fragrance of new-mown hay. These are primitive scents full of healing and comfort.
Lay your own tired heart close to the great beating heart of Mother Nature and rest. Rest and be glad. Forget time and the city life and its hustle and bustle. Just let the wonder and the peace of the winding way steal into your soul and make you a child again. The simplest and the best of all children, a child of nature.