In 2004 I was a staff writer for a trade newsletter and first became aware that it was possible to run a business using a laptop as the main business computer. The news rocked my world. You mean I could hike and work and not have to choose between the two? Well almost.
It’s leaf season and I would rather be hiking than tending to business. It wouldn’t be an issue, but I need better phone communication and better Internet access if I’m going to be in business while on the trail or off the grid. So here I am, as the sun sinks lower in the cloudless sky and the bright yellow maples turn to amber, having spent the day hiking with the computer. Now I remember why I typically hike with an old fashioned notebook and pen.
Leaf Season is always a surprise. This year it’s warm and sunny. I’ve also been caught in a blizzard in early October.
I miss the pre-Internet days when I could take off into the woods for a week or more and not worry about missed communications. I worked per diem or on a short-term project, earning enough to cover my expenses without sacrificing too many sunrises or sunsets.
I’m blessed to be able to work around nature’s schedule. I’m willing to work all night or get up before first light to meet a client deadline. It’s useful to be within 10 minutes of a hiking trail. I can always take a quickie to the lake.
Spending a less than a full day and night in nature feels like cheating. There’s no way I can slow down enough to really blend with the rhythms of the plants and animals that live where I hike.
It’s been a long time since nature offered a sunny day and a cloudless sky in this part of the world. I was aware of the reflection of brightly colored birch, beech and maple on the tranquil lake. I watched the shadows form and change as the sun glinted off the trees and the forest floor. If I could live here, I would have what I had years ago - a wigwam, a rock oven and a camp stove. I’d have stacks of wood and I’d be settling down on the grass mat that I wove breathing in the scent of maple and watching the sun go down. I’d feel the first chill of the ambient air losing the sun’s warmth. I’d hear cicadas and maybe a flying squirrel or raccoon begin their nightly quest for food.
I’m sitting in my apartment lit by compact fluorescent bulbs, listening to cicadas and folk music. I’m torn between the convenience of being connected to people all over the globe and the feeling of empowerment I get when I am removed from machine noises.
I am grateful for this day. It was one of the most beautiful nature experiences I’ve had in months. I do envision the day when I will not have to come out of the woods to make contact.