The Language of Trees

A towering old tree.

I slept over ten hours straight on Sunday night. Not a record, but greatly appreciated. We’ve been burning the candle at both ends and it was starting to catch up with us. We have family to visit here, but we decided as soon as we arrived that we would take Monday to recover. And recover we did!

”Tulip Poplar”

I awoke to the sounds of the woods we are sleeping in. Birds, bees, fellow campers murmuring. The sound of a distant lawn mower lumbering away at the never ending growth of vegetation we endure here in West Virginia. We had our usual morning conversation. Our sweet good mornings then the inevitable discussion of what’s for breakfast.

Foxglove

We settled on a big country breakfast because the fresh air of camping whets your appetite. I “baked” the biscuits in the electric skillet then heated up the gravy from the can and scrambled up some eggs. Doing dishes is fairly easy when camping. I mean, PRINCESS camping. I turned on the water heater before I started cooking and it might as well have been my home kitchen no harder than it was. I do have an outdoor kitchen where I set up the skillet and this keeps the smells out of the camper, which is much appreciated when you lay down at night.

Mulberry

After breakfast, Mr. FixIt sat outdoors with me for a while, but I was engrossed in my book. He decided to go in and stretch out while he watched a movie on the DVD player I bought for him for just such occasions. When his movie was over, we decided to go down to the little store at the intersection down the road to get a bag of ice and check our messages. Once we were down there, we figured we’d better go over and check out the visitor’s center, but we had a bag of ice now. We brought it back to the camper and ventured out again.

Daisies

There is a beautiful path behind the nature center that meanders on a raised boardwalk that accommodates people with disabilities. It’s beautiful because you can look down on the forest floor and see everything. The path goes out to a bridge that crosses a beautiful trout stream. The day was perfect. Eighty degrees, sunshine, and a gentle breeze that rocked the tops of monstrous deciduous trees.

Seneca Creek

After crossing the river, the path takes you to an old homestead with beautiful gardens filled with iris, peonies, and myriad native plants that make their home in the Appalachian Mountains. We spent some time photographing the views and eventually made our way back. I bought a book showing one-hundred plants to feed the bees so I can add to my pollinator gardens.

Some of the flowers at the Sites Homestead

We came back to the campground hungry and ready for a late lunch, early supper. Hotdogs and chips fit the bill…both with the campground ambiance and with the ease of preparation. If I liked campfires, we would have roasted them over a fire, but I can hardly stand the smoke. It gets in my hair and clothes and the camper and it chokes me. Mr. FixIt is so flexible in this regard. He wouldn’t want me to be uncomfortable, no matter how much he might like the fire.

Dogwood in front of Seneca Rocks

My husband is a magnet for people who like to talk and he’s never known a stranger in his life. We were sitting in our camp rockers, enjoying the cool air blowing through the trees when a gentleman came over to chat. They talked for quite some time. One of the neighboring campers had mentioned we were from the Parkersburg so he had to come talk to us. Finally after ten minutes or so, I asked where he was born and raised. It turns out, I knew him from childhood. We were raised a block apart on the same street and we all played together as kids! Seriously….it is a teeny, tiny world.

Me and my childhood friend that we ran into at the campground.

Sitting with the trees, being still, listening to the birds, and watching the clear blues sky is like speaking a language that isn’t easily understood when you don’t spend time in its’ presence. When I stayed for three months in the wilderness and backroads of Colorado after Mr. Virgo died, I learned to speak this language fluently. I feel a disconnect when I stay away too long, but it’s like riding a bicycle…it all comes back to you the moment you step into the cool shade of towering timbers.