Changing gears, one last goodbye

The time has come for me to bid adieu to my time with the trees.
What a whirlwind, and yet, am happy to have had the opportunity to get back out there, put a tree or two into the ground while living and working under wide open skies. My last day proved to be a highlight. I always love finishing with a bang, as it creates good memories to reflect back upon.
Since moving camps up to Grand Prairie, my days have been spent planting alone. My crew boss Shawn giving me large pieces of land to work in, being able to set it up to my liking. Working alone has its perks as well as its lows.  Perks include, knowing where ones trees are at all times, and should I over plant an area it's my fault.  Less time dawdling at the cache. Being able to listen to music. But it gets lonely in the land. There are days that I talk to no one safe for Shawn on the rare occasion when he quads into my land to check in to see if I need more trees, or by breaking my own silence with a short personal comment or two slipping through my thoughts and out my mouth.
My final day on the block, things went a little differently. I got to plant with my new friend Blake. Perks about buddy planting: you get to have a conversation which oftentimes makes planting feel less like work. What a treat to have a buddy, who also works at the same pace!  We spent the morning filling up our land with trees while talking about bluegrass bands, superhero powers, books and art school. Planting along, Blake discovered a deer carcass in our land, everything had been picked to the bone minus the head and legs. There was still some hide attached. We mused for awhile the nature of its death.  Wolf? Bear? Natural? Who knows, but we let it rest and continued onwards.
In the afternoon, we were relocated to a new area, with clouds building up all around us.  Dark, dark clouds. Then the rumblings of thunder came. A few intense flashes of lightning. Because of my time working with Outward Bound, I cannot help but to count the pauses between flash to crash. The first count was three. Then one. Then less than one. Oh my! This storm was right above us. Should I have been working with students, we'd be sitting in the woods, upon PFD's waiting out the storm. Here, instead though perhaps a safety issue, most of us continued to work. Then the hail came.  First small, then coming down the size of peas. This warranted a short stop, as we dove beneath the cache tarp in hopes to wait it out.  One thing about pea-sized hail: it does not come down gently. It lasted about 5 minutes, covering the ground in ice, before more rain began to pour, creating giant mud puddles in every direction. The temperature, which was hot and sunny in the morning, dropped significantly. With teeth chattering away, and hands beginning to numb from cold, it was time to move.  Though a cold rain, I tend to love planting in this type of weather because moving keeps you warm. Focus becomes intensified, and you move swiftly through the land, more aware of where your planted trees are. The ground, moist from the rain, is easier to plant in as well (minus the dirt road, which becomes a muddy and sticky mess with boots getting stuck in big pockets of the stuff.  One thing I have come to love is the sound of sucking mud, squelching beneath my feet and on the rare occasion getting completely suctioned into a mud hole producing much laughter and struggle trying to escape!).  The day capped off with sun once again breaking through the clouds.  All of us little dirty planters, soaked through and through, but spirits remained high. My last trees planted along a creek bed.  How many trees in the past month will grow? Will these blocks of land return to looking like a forest?

Though the trees that once stood tall are now gone, life still continues to thrive and live. Little white throated sparrows, all this last week, would sit atop these large burn piles singing their merry tunes as we'd work, flying about.  Beautiful yellow wildflowers in full bloom, out to greet the sun, their colour so bright and cheerful, each time I would happen upon one, my heart was filled with gladness.  During moments where I would feel the frustrations of work creep up on me, I would stop and look around.  How many people can say that they spend their entire days outside, beneath open skies, with life surrounding them? Maybe the work is hard, monotonous, intense, lonely or whatever word you attach to it, but strip those feelings away, and you are in this incredible place. I watched a pair of herons meander through my land, before taking off to the sky. I cannot think of another place I would have chosen to spend my past month. At night, we gather together, all us weary planters, to celebrate our days with delicious meals, conversations and laughter.  I don't hate planting because I believe in what it is I am trying to do. I also find it a place where I can connect with something that is so significant to me: the great outdoors. We can choose to fight against the natural world, believing it can be tamed and controlled, or we can go out into it and learn from it. Understand its rhythms and patterns and become a part of it, returning to our roots. We are not just in the landscape, but we are a part of it.
Final treat of the day, was a long, bumpy, mud ride out on the quad. It makes me think of what it must be like to ride atop of an elephant...swaying side to side, almost falling off. A few times I did seem to slip nearly off the side of the quad, laughing so hard with joy that tears started to trickle out. What a ride, a day, an end.

Saying goodbye has never been easy for me.  The next morning I woke early, looked around my little camp home and felt heavy hearted that it was time to go.  New friends, a simple life, the wilds around me....already nostalgic, and wondering when next I shall return. Who shall I see again, and the hopes of crossing paths both in the land and in life. Hugs and long farewells were had before driving off into the sunrise, making my way back to Calgary. A final parting gift from the woods: turning off onto the highway, 250 feet in front of me ran a small wolf pack. Two large black wolves and one giant grey, my car the only one on the highway.  I have seen lone wolves travel, but to experience three, a pack, is one of the most phenomenal sights I have ever laid eyes upon. The take home, we may cut down trees, we may put in roads and alter the landscape for our benefits, but nature still prevails. It lives and continues to create magic, if we are lucky and slow down we can catch some of these beautiful moments, that nothing can take away from us. They live in our hearts, and is an endless reminder to continue to live life with heart, passion and open eyes.  The world around us is not scary, it is just unknown at times. Live in it, learn its language. Find that connection. It isn't lost.