Update 8

To Charlie, Mary, Tweeter, Gert, Marie, and Jeannette

To Misha, Chris, Lisl, Andrew, Grandfather Ray, Emily, Leah, Nathan, Linda, Lynne, Noah Elbers, Nate, Tom, Hans, and Lu

To everyone who stopped to talk to us and help us along the way

To our families

To all our friends back home...

WE MADE IT TO NORTHWOODS!

Adam, Conor, Everett, Josia, Malcolm, Michal, Noah, Willie and I have arrived at the beautiful Northwoods Stewardship Center in East Charleston. Together, we skied and hiked almost the whole length of Vermont!

Lisl drove to meet us from Kroka. It only took her 3 hours of driving while the last two and a half months of our lives have been wrapped up in preparing for and moving slow and steady and long towards reaching this place. It was a bit of a shock to think But she felt our shock and was excited by it! She reminded us that people just don’t do what we just did anymore, and to look back at the very beginning. We aren’t the same anymore and it is noticeable and good.

(She also told me I had a beard.)

I’ve really missed Lisl and I wish she could be staying with us longer, but she is being pulled in many different directions and so she can’t. Her daughter is getting married and that makes all of us here very happy, and we will be sure to learn all we can from her now, and appreciate all of her jokes. I love her jokes because it makes it so clear that she enjoys spending time with us. I also hope that I can talk to her about the weather as much as possible before she says goodbye again because she is incredible and knows so much.

It meant a lot to finish our Winter Expedition in our Small Group Solos. We did not do everything perfectly, or the way that we were supposed to, but we had a handle on every step along our way. If we had tried to do this at the start we might have floundered and died, or at least come crawling back to the teachers all embarrassed.

We knew what we were doing out there. An expert would laugh, but I am being honest. I could go out there by myself and do a good job of it too.

The Solo Groups were

Everett, Josia & Michal

Adam, Noah & Willie

Conor, Dean & Malcolm

I have asked each group to write about the experience, and I will tell you about mine.

Walking and sweating hard underneath the full hot sun, going up the final road of the Winter Expedition, I was charging around every corner looking for NorthWoods’ sign. I felt like I’d been headed there for years & that if I didn’t move fast enough it would disappear.

When I finally saw it I ran right to it and put my palm up against it, then did a little dance while Malcolm & Conor caught up. They didn’t know what I was doing but I didn’t really care. We had made it! I had made it!

And then, once we made it up the NorthWoods’ driveway and made it through the trails and made it into the meadow, it was time to make our home.

Nate taught last year’s Semester alongside Lu, and this year he walked with Andrew to follow behind us on our Small Group Solos. Now that those were finished, he was there to drive camp set-up.

We thinned the forest, we limbed the trees we cut and stripped them of their bark one by one. We lashed the poles and drove them together, forcing them up into the air, and we dug holes for their feet so that they would stay in place. We pounded stakes into the ground and we lashed those to the poles to make them stand up straight and strong. We harvested boughs from trees that NorthWoods had already felled, and walked them back because they were far out into the trails from our sunny meadow. We did this five times over as so to end up with five different tents. One for the boys to sleep in, one for the girls, one for the teachers and one for our guest teacher, and one for cooking and eating and working inside. The last one is named Honey Hollow, and was sewn by another Semester. It looks like a whale because we set up tarp that extends out far in front, like a long powerful spine and wide straight ribs to protect us inside. Many of our poles came from Semesters before us, but many did not. All the work came from us and this is truly our home, not someone else’s.

At the same time, it is clearly NorthWoods’ gift and we are so grateful to be welcome here. Whenever we have been working in their Center, or I have been lucky enough to have to wait inside for the drinking water jug to fill or the laundry to finish, I have been browsing all of their displays and books. They have stuffed birds and owls and even a fisher cat and a salmon! I love looking at them close up, and reading small bits of Last Child in the Woods.

After we finished building our new home and making it both beautiful and comfortable, we had to say goodbye to two people. Nate had to leave and that was sad because there is so much more to learn from him, and there isn’t much time to do so. He reminded me to listen to the birds and shared what he remembered about the stars at night. He talked about making clothes from animal skins and even from cedar. He did not talk about when he lived without metal, but we know that he did, and I hope that I get another chance to ask him about it.

But Andrew had to leave too. We have had a lot of different teachers, all switching out at different times and coming back now and then, but he has always been there. He has been our friend as well as our teacher, and we all love the way he laughs with us. We all shared what we appreciated about Andrew on the night before he left and I told him that he reminded me of the poem that he chose when we all had to memorize poems. He is a Do-Something-Man.  It was great to live with someone who is like that, a goal for me, but also not so far away that my goal seems overwhelming. His story about almost singlehandedly revitalizing the Boy Scouts at his school from a group of five to a group of forty-five is something that I like to think about. I hope that I follow my interests as well as Andrew does, and I’m looking forward to seeing him again soon.

I have not talked about Lu yet, and it feels like it is time. Lu is our rock. She may not agree that she is our rock, but she is. I can always be frank and honest with her about how I am feeling and she will always be frank and honest back. She is incredibly close within our group, in a different but similar way that Andrew is. Lu is like, but more than, a big sister who has a better handle on everything we are doing. I really appreciate that. We have created a family here and she’s been a major driving force behind it. Lu has also come to me and showed me different ways in which I can grow, and I need those. Her reading voice is the perfect thing to listen to when you are about to go to bed. There is much more to write about Lu, but we are not saying goodbye to her and so some of it can be saved.

But I am saying goodbye as Scribe.

Writing these updates has been very difficult and stressful at times, but it has always felt more than amazing to be that voice for our Semester. I am incredibly and impossibly proud to be completing my job knowing that it has been a job well done. I am so happy to be a part of this. I hope that you have all enjoyed our Story as I have written it. I wrote these updates to share this experience with all of you. I wanted to share as loudly as I could.

Thank you so much for listening.

The Scribe

Dean C.

Small Group Solo

Days were full of sun, sweat, singing, mud, fog, magical cedar bogs, and interesting people.

The first day was full of gifts. Maple sap quenched thirst, burl-laden trees enticed creativity, patches of snow scattered the trail making skiing possible one last time, and a hidden camp by a rushing stream fulfilled all our needs.

The second was magical. We set off into an enchanted cedar bog. The trail, thinly covered by snow, disappeared into rising mist, cool and a wonderful eerie on our bare morning arms. The sun beat down as we dragged sweaty, muddy feet through cornfield after cornfield, across and up over little trickles of meltwater edged by deep mud, ever grateful for our mudboots. We crossed the bridge in Barton mid-afternoon, and promptly turned onto an incorrect old snowmobile trail, which brought us upon half a deer hide (which Everett took), and into a sunshower, breaking the heat wave. As the sky cleared, on rainbow turned into two, which became another half rainbow as well. It was spectacular.

The third day was hard, and our intensity and determination as we hiked up and over the mountain in the growing dark, discovering mental and physical limits, made it awesome. The rush of emotions, so intensely real and so completely fulfilling and perfect made me feel so absolutely satisfied and proud and successful. It brought the lessons and effort and work of the entire expedition around again, to a sort of resting place in my heart and soul. It was truly beautiful. The setting sun on our left as we squelched our way down the hill on the wide dirt road, listening to the sounds of the song birds and feeling the perfect cool summer evening air on our skins, our heads soaking up the love and triumph in the air.

And the fourth day was just fun, full of adventure of a minor sort, but exhilarating and inspiring nonetheless. We stopped at the bottom of the driveway and had a picnic, then set off for the rest of our lives, barefoot and grinning.

- Josia

Willie, Noah, and Adam set out one day and began their quest. They carried nothing but the clothes on their back, extra clothing, more food than necessary, some pots, a tent-tarp, a fire screen, some maps, and a guitar. They were searching for the mysterious North Woods, a stewardship center in East Charleston. Along the way, the trio left excerpts from The Autobiography of Fredrick by Willie C.
They obtained enlightening knowledge from their water sources, but more than anything, hydration. In the land of Barton, Willie, Noah, and Adam purchased a bundle of supplies that became the night’s feast. The next day, Noah fought off the terrible beasts of the Robin’s Roost. On the final day, Adam prepared a brunch and purified himself prior to entry into Northwoods. The journey was complete.

- Willie

Malcolm, Dean, and I were the last group to depart Heartbeet, were a full day behind the group at one point, but managed to make it to Northwoods on time and in good spirits.

Our main challenge was the unseasonal heat and the need to stay hydrated. Luckily, we were able to get water from many people along the way. The people we met really helped make our solo memorable.

We helped a woman, Barb, move some furniture for an hour because she was moving. We learned about her family. She and her husband adopted three kids. When she heard what we were doing, she asked us if our families were wealthy. This question was unexpected and made me realize how fortunate I am to be here, doing this. Barb was very friendly and helped me gain a new perspective, as I had never considered my family to be wealthy. Our service earned us a free meal from their restaurant.

Our time spent helping Barb and eating put us a little behind. It took us till nightfall on the windy snowmobile trail to reach Lake Willoughby. We decided to hike into the night until we got too tired.

Just before leaving the town by the lake, the trail passed the Robin’s Roost bar and restaurant. We needed water and wanted to get food with our remaining money, so we went in. We sat at the bar and quickly entered into a friendly conversation with the bartender (Kiah), a local (Johnny), and an out-of-stater (Eric), who they called a white-plater. He had a white license plate from Mass. They were very interested in what we were doing and argued over what direction we should take, even though we knew we were staying on the trail. Johnny bought us a pizza, Eric bought us a trail map, and Kiah gave us some food on the house as well as some of her own snacks. We never seemed to be allowed to pay for things. We spent a great hour there and then went on our way.

We hiked by headlamp until 11:30 or so, earlier than we planned, and slept just to the side of the trail. That night hike was a blast and I’m so glad that we did it. We were very tired the next day, but it was well worth it.

We met many other people and I wish I could mention them all. Our small group solo was a very empowering experience – we became aware of our ability to travel and set camp, and live without the help of teachers. We realized just how much we had learned and grown, and we had a lot of fun.

- Conor

Update 7

Gratitude Attitude

To have the gratitude attitude, one must be conscious of and thankful for the gifts received in life. 
I am thankful for many gifts.  The Smilie School has allowed us to camp on the property. Wild sumac provided us with great tea. The teachers gave us the means to make hot chocolate. I am thankful for  boughs and the wonderful floor they make; unparalleled by cardboard. 
I am thankful to be here, right now, with these people, with this community, on this expedition. This truly is a great experience, which few people ever know. I am thankful I am one of the few.

Perhaps most importantly, I am thankful to be thankful. It feels good to be thankful. Every gift received becomes better when acknowledged as a gift.  To have gratitude is to be happy.
-Conor

This leg was the leg of our Group Solo.

We have chosen camp alone before, we have set up camp alone before, and we have navigated and skied alone before; we have been on our own, but not all at once. This was a true test of how strong we are together.

Before the Group Solo:
On one day that we navigated and skied alone, Lu & Andrew waved goodbye with their backpacks on and skied off before we had finished taking down the tent. The night before we had agreed to camp and reunite along three little ponds around 10k away, and we would see them then.

We were nervous that they were leaving but we knew that they were leaving tracks. There were several chances where we could have taken a different route, or a shortcut over easier terrain, and we have certainly ignored teacher tracks before.

Sometimes they’ve gone the wrong way to try and trick us, and we didn’t fall for that back then! But today, the way it went, we stayed alongside the teacher tracks and felt some more secure in our position, but not as proud.

The Catamount Trail spat us out onto the side of a large straight road, which baffled our navigator of the day Conor, and everyone else, for some time. The teacher tracks were still with us but where were we? We walked up some of it and came across some water, and suddenly it all made sense! The Catamount must have been rerouted yet again, as we’ve learned and been stumped by many times, and judging from the brook and the pond we must be much farther along than we thought! We did not go North and then East, we had gone a squirrely, disorienting Northeast.

It was after a slow half kilometer road walk that we came across Golf Course Road, and Malcolm Master Navigator remembered seeing that on the maps before. We found the intersection on the map and it was a couple kilometers past the three little ponds.

Woops.

As it turns out the Catamount had not been rerouted, but our teachers had skied past our agreed-upon destination, and we had trusted their tracks instead of our own navigational sense and instincts.

The shadows were getting longer but we felt we had to get to those three ponds one way or another on the account that we were separated, so we started walking and laughing.

At that moment, Lu & Andrew found us, and we were able to pick a camp right near where we were. They had bought us ice cream and we all ate it together that night, talking about the crazy Catamount.

The next day we visited the Lepine sisters.  I was not able to go, so Josia wrote about the visit…

Imagine yourself walking up to a small house overlooking picturesque Vermont rolling fields, the patchy snow turned mucky from multitudes of cattle strolling over it. It’s about midmorning and the sunny air feels like spring on your t-shirt clad body.  You are a little sweaty after the ski from a tucked-away liveover camp. As you approach the door, a little dog begins voicing its operas through the ripped screen door, and three opinionated, strong female voices are raised in response.  The air inside the hours is warm, the walls coated in beautiful paintings from all sorts of local artists, and on the kitchen table is a mug of unfinished cocoa set down next to recent newspapers. This is the house of Gert, Jeanette, and Marie Lepine. They are native Vermont farmers, sisters who a few years ago sold their family dairy farm after an eighty-plus year lifetime of managing it.

Over the few hours we were welcomed into their home, we learned of old and new ways of dairy farming; from squirting milk at your brother to an electric tagging system.  We heard about  the adventures of a Pan Am flight attendant from Jeanette, self dubbed “Jeanette Lepine, International Garbage Queen”.  We tasted the delicious intricacies of raw Holstein milk and chocolate chip cookies.

The Lepine sisters are really more than all of that. 

As one of our group’s few female members, the highlight of my morning was Gert’s response to my inquiry about running the farm as a women. She said that people would come to the farm and look around for a while.  When she asked if they needed something, would say that they were looking for the boss. Gert would point to her chest and say "right here" very proudly. 

These women, who some might consider to be "just" old farmer sisters, are still cutting their own 6 cords of wood with a chainsaw and studying the birds that feed outside their window. They are full of passion and life and stories about the gallery they used to own, Gert's teaching stint, Marie’s restaurant, and Jeanette’s aeronautic adventures, all on top of their dairy farm. Talking to them, it is easy to imagine that with enough will and work, anything is possible. They pushed us all to think hard about what we want to do with our lives. 

As I left their house, my pack a tiny bit heavier from the wonderful weight of blueberries and maple syrup, my heart was shining and loving life.  I felt relaxed, at home and empowered to live in this world, going through with my ideas and learning forever.

-Josia

A few days before the end of the leg, Lu & Andrew brought us into a circle.  We listened to a poem and sang together in a field of melted snow and soft mossy grass and warm gray branches.

We were about to separate and set off on our Group Solo, three days that many of us were scared of. How could the 9 of us keep moving smoothly and get along without our teachers? I was sure that we would know what to do. I was not sure that we would be able to do it. It is hard to be led by your peers if you are in disagreement. Taking criticism is a hard task.

We broke the hand circle and said goodbye to Andrew & Lu.

We brought the circle back together, arms over each other’s shoulders as they walked off, and suddenly it didn’t feel like such a mountain to cross. I believe everyone else felt that too, because we shared that even though we were worried, we would do all right. Which was right.

Later that day we were done with dinner before dark and breakfast was already cooked and ready to be reheated for the morning. The tarp went up and the tent was set strong in the best available space. During our Evening Share we shared just how unbelievable it was that we were solid enough to have organized an Evening Share, or even have time for one.

This beautiful rhythm continued over the remaining days, and we made many important memories.

We visited the Elmore Store and bought local ice cream, apple cider, strudels and muffins with some of our group money. The lady who ran the store was very nice and gave us a loaf of one-day-old raisin bread, which we saved for tomorrow’s breakfast, and it was delicious. The lady asked to look at my knife and was impressed that we had all made our handles, but reassured me that her knife was bigger, which it was! It was closer to a machete behind that desk! Our group lunched together under the sun, which was melting all of our snow, but giving us a dry green hill to picnic on. Very importantly, we limited our time and kept moving when it was coming to an appropriate end.

I haven’t talked much about our Layovers but I believe Heartbeet deserves the recognition. They are a biodynamic farm and life-sharing community, involving many capable adults with special needs.  Heartbeet just recently became North America’s 12^th Camphill, but I can tell you a bit more than that.

We sleep in the hayloft where the hay has been cleared, but we can sleep in the hay itself with our sleeping bags. Noah did and convinced me to as well. I honestly found the most comfortable position in the world and I woke up not knowing if I was actually lying down or just drifting. Below us are chickens, roosters, calves, cows, pigs, goats, and ducks, and I love their calls coming up in the morning, even the rooster.

When I walk down the dirt roads everyone smiles at me and I shake their hand and meet them and learn their names. I learned how to milk and when it was time to finish and I was checked, there was barely any milk left! I had a great conversation with a woman around my mom’s age and I learned how she came to Heartbeet looking for a different life because she was, the word wasn’t frustrated but she didn’t know what it was, back at home and the idea of coming to a farm was beautiful. She said she’s been writing imagination stories lately and maybe she would write one for me. She’s practicing and is hoping to work up to something much longer someday.

Jonathon, the co-founder alongside his wife Hannah, came to our lunch yesterday in the tent, which we’ve set up in a field. He was so excited to share his and Heartbeet’s philosophies with us that he hadn’t finished his first bowl by the time we were on thirds! He said that originally he was not sure why they had started Heartbeet in Hardwick, there was not much going on, but now it is a huge center for young entrepreneurs with big ideas who want to do well for the customer and be involved in the community. I asked him if he thought they had just gotten lucky with the town or if they had influenced the change. He laughed and said he thought it was destiny, and told me, “Even though I don’t believe in chance, I have found myself lucky.”

If you are trying to do something good, the little miracles you need have a way of finding you.

We visited a Waldorf school and presented ourselves and what we are here for with members of the community and young students. We set up the tent and made hot drinks over the stove, and they stood inside it with mugs of yellow birch and spruce tea. We sang songs and taught about trees and shared some of our poetry back in the school building. Willie, Adam and I shared a little more about ourselves with short personal narratives and I was proud to stand in front of that small crowd and remember how I came to be here. I was very glad that we were able to go there.
I am very glad that we are able to be here.

Work from Pushups and Poetry

Solo

-Willie

to learn independently

to feel empowered
unlike the way we are

when help is showered

to give a shot at what was learned

after all what else do we need

you watered the plant inside us

it’s time for us to sew the seed

Gifts

-Malcolm

I look around earth and every person has a gift that they offer. Ones so special and unique I can’t help but accept it. Some stand tall and shout to the world “here it is” Some quietly kneel down and extend a hand. There are those whose gift is so natural they don’t know they have one.

Each gift is differently given

Some laid at your feet with fanfare

Others a little token under our pillow or simply in the palm of an outstretched hand with no more explanation than a wink and each of them with a different wrapping. Newspaper and twine for this while bows and bobble on that and no matter how they come forth, you know that each comes from that place in the heart

The place where sad music touches your happiest memories

With the knowledge of where they come from you cannot help but appreciate them. And with that appreciation all you want to do is answer

Answer with your gift

Noticing

-Josia

It’s pretty incredible

what a group can do

to a person

so today

I was doing something as mundane

as walking down the stairs

quite and echoey and cavernous

cold and concrete, uninviting in their semi-lit state

and I was singing

but it was more than that

at home, I used to sing too

not loudly

but to myself

under my breath

and then stop

as soon as I knew

someone my be drawing close

so today

as I was sweeping the stairs

singing

I realized

it wasn’t quiet

or secretive

but open

and free

and I knew then that part of me

the inner, joyful, loving bit

is flying right now

as much as it complains about my cold ears

deprived of their bunny hat in the wash

it knows

that it is welcome

accepted

so incredibly excited

to be itself

that all it can do

is sing

Fire

-Everett

the flight of the grouse

whirling upwards

the track of the mink

bounding between trees

the gurgle of the stream

under the ice

the slopes of the hills

rolling away

the monolithic boulders bearded wih moss

the flat expanse of a beaver swamp

under the sky

the clouds fleeing the wind

grey and white and purple

all the earth humming

weaving its way

the crackle of the fire

awoken from the trees

and brought forth

to speak as well

by me

I’ve been sitting here watching Adam finish cooking and adding spices, and I keep thinking to myself. Wasn’t that tomato powder added too late? Do we need that much salt? He’s doing it a different way than I would want to see if it works. He’s learning much more than I am right now. But sometimes I want to try it my way and learn too. I would love to have my own pot of barley and taste it as it boils until it burns, so I can learn the path it takes and not just ask for the answer. It cooks in 0 minutes. I would love to learn the paths of many things until they all come out beautifully.

-Dean

What I hope to retain from semester

-Adam

There are a lot of things I want to continue past my time at Kroka. Here are a few.

Waking up early. Our days are often 5:30am to 9:30pm. It feels like doubling your money to have a day that active, especially when you’re living outside for most of that. It’s not always possible, but its great to have no watch.

Wilderness spirituality. When we sing before blessing meals or “greet the day” for “morning meditation” or thank the resources we use and eat, it spices up the mundane, and lends a deeper meaning to our world.

Relationship to work. I’ve learned here that no work is beneath you, and also that all work can be done beautifully and create a work of art from everyday tasks. A janitor can be the life of a school, and to sweat daily is wonderful. Washing our dishes by hand, or chopping firewood instead of burning fossil fuels is more work but well worth it.

Living in the circle of the sun. There’s a satisfaction in well-earned exhaustion and its great to exercise simply by living. Food, energy, and all other things are gifts and well earned when you try.

Natural Knowledge. I know more about the weather, navigation, trees, water, outdoor living, firewood and wilderness skills ten I ever thought possible. Just surviving or outlasting the elements is not the point. The goal is to thrive outdoors, to live well in primitive settings and to feel at home.

Conscious lifestyle. Kroka gives priority to ethical and sustainable practices, whether it be local organic food, energy efficient housing, or environmental education. Its empowering to see the overwhelming goal of living more responsibly on the earth become a daily reality.

Constant education. Kroka has taught me to ask the good questions and not just questions. I’ve never learned in the same constant way that days here on semester are filled with. We learn a tree one moment and then that evening I memorize a poem and make a dinner for nine. At the same time this break from continual academics here has made me even more hungry to go off to college in 6 months

Good habits. I get up early every day. I cook much of my food, I at least have a solid relationship to it, and know exactly where it’s from. I am involved in the energy use, splitting firewood and using electricity prudently. I journal often, from basic to-do lists to reflection ad brainstorming goals for the future. I’m outside every day and exercising so much more. I feel empowered, optimistic about the world and my place in it.

And even more to come in the two and a half months ahead…

Update 6 - February 26th, 2012

FEBRUARY 26th

4 PM

We are standing circled round in the middle of a long day at the grey end of the day. Our shoulders are slumped and our packs are swollen heavy. Our faces are stiff and we are looking straight ahead at Chris, who called us together. We do not want to face this or deal with it any longer…

8 AM

The sun is just up over the horizon and we are dancing while working in beautiful dry and deep powder. For the first time the forest’s boughs are truly white and drooping all the way up, and the tent is backed into this winter wall, but still open to the blue bright morning and gold rising sun in front of us. This is the day we’ve been teased and wow it’s really here!

11 AM

We’ve never had to break trail before but it seems pretty fun! It’s not actually that much snow compared to other winters but it is still tiring when we take turns plowing far ahead, clearing the path, for as long as we can. We’re not moving too much slower either! It’s almost midday already and we haven’t done much yet but we’ve never done this before so of course that’s where we are!

1 PM

The forest is rushing by but we can float just standing still. As the trail curves and the land undulates we see glimpses of tall and mighty Mt. Abraham between the spaces, from our skis and flat white road. It is bigger every time we see it and we chatter excitedly, but suddenly we stop moving. He is still so far away and we are climbing him tomorrow.

3 PM

We don’t think we can make the twenty kilometers we were supposed to but the alternate camp is too far behind and the goal is still too far ahead. That mountain is too tall.

3:30 PM

I don’t want to do this and don’t talk to me like that.

4 PM

We are standing circled round not looking at each other and just too far from where we wanted to be. Chris is standing tall and looking at each of us in turn. And then he starts changing something.

He asks us if we want to be excited, if we’re going to climb up to the very peak of Mt. Abraham tomorrow, and if we are ready to transform this long hard day into a good end. He asks us if we want to finish the distance. We do, we know we do, so we say yes, yes we do.

It is a while later and I’ve been singing off and on but it hasn’t yet caught on. The group is moving but the good steps are outnumbered by dragging feet. The mood wants to be there but it is so hard to change on your own will alone.

And then I heard Conor yell back to me.

“DEAN!”

“WHAT?”

“LOVE THE EARTH!”

I couldn’t stop smiling.

“LOVE THE EARTH!”

Love the Earth!

            Love the Earth!

Love the Sky!

            Love the Sky!

Heat a Fire!

            Heat a Fire!

Drop of Water!

            Drop of Water!

I can feel it in my Body

In my Spirit in my Soul

Hey-Ya Hey-Ya

Hey-Ya Hey-Ya

Hey-Ya Hey-Ya

Hey-Ya Ho

Hey-Ya Hey-Ya

Hey-Ya Hey-Ya

Hey-Ya Hey-Ya

Hey-Ya Ho

Hey-Ya Hey-Yaaaaa

Hey-Ya Hey-Yaaaaa

Hey-Ya He-Yaaaaa Hey-Yaaaaa Ho…

We made the full length of the day before the sun set, all singing our own songs because the music finally caught and was kept. Not everyone was where they normally are within the group, they needed time, but they were singing and letting others sing louder. That night the sunset was a late night’s stove red across the sky and resting among the mountaintops, and our camp was well set along a ridge with the most beautiful view.

There have been many days where we have been strong and happy throughout, but I felt they did not show quite how powerful our group is. We want to and do our best to change when we are struggling, rather than let the day end and just try again, ignoring the challenges.

The next day we got to the top of Mt. Abraham, and looking back down the side we had just traveled from I saw the picture that had really captured me back when I was deciding whether or not to come here. Realizing that suddenly I just walked through it, am living it, and can see beyond it, it was a wide and wonderful world at the top of that mountain.

We have been listening to The Education of Little Tree most nights. Chris reads aloud beautifully and I have been practicing when I read to the group. He is gone now, but we will see him again at NorthWoods. He is such an inspiring figure, and his home and school is known as Koviashavik, or a time and place of joy in the present moment. We’re getting closer; it feels like he’s as close as you get to being there.

 

Many of our reflections are about the Fire or Shelter Solos. For the Fire Solo we were sent out alone to spend some time with Old Man Fire, and we cooked a small amount of deer meat that tasted like melting butter. For the Shelter Solo we were sent out in groups to build both shelter and a fire, this time to cook us dinner, keep us warm, and last us the whole night through. I think it is best to let each person share his or her own experiences.

 Shelter Experience

- Dean

I fed you

I watched you drink the wood

and pour heat over me

I saw you got hungry but I wanted to see what you’d do

So I waited

you grew quiet, looking, then burned a new way

you can change your form when your meal is like this

I kept you like this because it suited me better

I could hardly imagine sleeping next to you safely

and know you are no less wild and will last for some until I wake up

but I don’t want to sleep

I haven’t for a while

I just watch you and remember to look out for now

My clothes are wet

I’ll dry them

I’m hungry

I’ll take some butter to eat.

Malcolm has woken up cold and damp a few times

I’ll move the fire over and I’ll watch the sparks

When I had to pee I came back and just looked at the home.

Smoke and embers floating up by slow falling snow

I’ve been living in there and it hasn’t even been a full night

I haven’t been living another memory while the fire burned

I fed Old Man Fire from my hands and that’s exactly what I was doing

Fire Solo

-Josia

Sun

I see you up there

But where are you, really?

I can’t even fathom

How far you are

Your real location

But you just keep on going

Unrelentlessly working

Shining your light for us

So I will do this thing for you

All I can offer

It’s a sun salute

I reach up for you

Hold your tickling fingers to my heart

Between my palms

Then welcome your beauty in again

Down to the earth

My feet

The snow

Hide from you, just a little

Close my eyes in pure reverence

And then curve upwards

My body yearning for the feeling of you upon me

Then again

With a deep breath

I will point down again

Bow to you

The strength you put in all of the trees

Bestow upon them the potential

The desire, even

That they have

For that strike

And to Burst!

Into flame.

To the occupant of my fire solo clearing

-Michal

I apologize, didn’t mean to stare

you were standing so peculiar there

most of your flesh has been long gone

and your tattered dress is just hanging on

ghostly, it wraps you from head to toe

fitting loosely, far too much fabric to sew

you looked like a mummy who stood straight and tall

with really nothing left under your skin at all

In a sunny small clearing you hide from the light

Under your tattered garment so white

I know it was rude to disturb your attire

but I just wanted a small piece of your dress for the fire

Ode to the Yellow Birch

-Michal

A young yellow birch wears a beautiful gown

it’s a glimmering silver, a yellow beige brown

the queen of the woods, she reaches for the skies

and holds in her fingers the sweetest surprise

what a minty aroma surrounds her small buds

as she watches with splendor over mosses and muds

but an old yellow birch is even more regal

she knows that vanity is a thing that is evil

she shredded her white gown, her branches twisted and turned,

for the respect of the forest,

she has already earned

Fire Solo Reflection

-Adam

I walked into the winter woods today, more than a little nervous, but I walked out feeling more at ease than ever before.  I may be still a stranger amidst these trees and hills, but I am no longer a foreigner there.  In spending time alone with a fire, I realized I had learned so much and was putting it to good use.  I felt strong and calm all at once.

To have learned the four cardinal corners of the world, and to know them by the sun, is to carry a compass rose in your center. You begin to grasp your place in the world, where you stand in wider scope. 

To know how to build a solid bed for fire is to know how to build a house for yourself, anywhere.  This ability can only grow, ad it sustains the fire you carry in your being, even in the dark and cold of the bitterest winter nights.

To be sheltered by familiar evergreens is to be nestled in the lad, to feel the security of shelter where there was none before.

How strange to be human, just another animal yet totally peculiar too, one that cannot survive long without all the trappings of modernity.  But today, armed with knowledge, matches, an axe and little else, I felt more at ease in strange woods than even the familiar woods and paths I know and have trod many times before near my home.

Today I befriended Old Man Fire.  He’s a wily, hungry old boy, and I think we’ll only become better friends from here on out.

Fire

-Willy

As I looked and found my spot, I began to dig and thought

“What a decent day today to go and pick this game to play”

I can still remember a time,

Now it feels like such a crime

When I needed far more than just a match

I burned up the entire pack

So I sat and dug my hole

Then I set out to fulfill my goal

I gathered fuel from a fallen tree

I must admit, I felt quite free

I set my twigs and birch bark down

Opened my matches and I found

My striker was deep inside
I would have to improvise

Two matches I struck together

It all went well, thanks to the weather

I had a fire so beautiful

Bright flames bucking like an angry bull

I connected with those flames

I’m pretty sure it had a name

We got deep in conversation

Neither of us had any reservations

I popped a squat a few feet away

I know Mr. Fire thought it was okay

We had enough time to not be shy

By the time we said goodbye

Living in the Moment

-Everett

It’s true we live nearly all our lives thinking about what we did or anticipating what is to come.  Is it bad to look forward to things? Is it bad to look back? Living in the moment takes focus. Going down a frozen stream, over rocks and holes and frozen waterfalls, through ice, as fast as possible takes concentration.  Living in that moment there is no room for anything else. To truly do something well, you absolutely must be entirely there, grounded and attentive to what is happening.  Yet without what we have done and without knowing it we are nothing. Animals live in their moments, looking for food and shelter.  Are they more perfect than us? Looking back and looking forward is a gift and we should accept that and meditate, letting our minds drift. but when the time comes we should be there to throw ourselves into anything with all our minds and presence.

Fire Solo Reflection

-Noah

Hello old man fire, I have some wood for you to eat

as long as you cook this piece of deer meat. 

Oh hey, you burned it.

Well, that’s okay. 

I’ll just have to eat it anyway. 

My feasting is done, and its time for you to leave. 

And to make sure you go out, I’ll spray you with my pee.

Cold

- Malcolm

Every night I awake with fright 

and an awful dread for soon, I know, I'll have to go

and get out of bed 

when outside

I'm petrified

and I feel frostbitten 

I wish I had thought and stopped and gotte

my soft warm wool mittens

but its too late

I have a date with the far off pee tree

the snow is cold but I can't hold off all this urine inside of me 

well now I'm done so back I run

and lord I am quite glad 

as I breath deep and fall asleep 

I think 'cold ain't so bad'

Old Man Fire

-Conor

The bed is made

Finder awaits his survival

Shrouded by tipi’s shade

A spark enters the twiggy hall

Fast comes old man fire

Waiting no longer,

A flame crackles hotly

That’s when I ponder

Will the wood run out shortly?

Hungry is old man fire

More fuel is needed

I dash to and fro

Yet not enough is gathered

Showing his displeasure, he sinks low

Almost out the door is old man fire

At last I find bigger wood

On top it goes

Now he can stay if ever he could

The rising flame warms my toes

Happy and at home is old man fire