Experience in a Natural Setting: Knowing the Noland

Along the leaf-covered trail, hiding behind a blanket of barren tree trunks, rests two pines. These two trees are unlike the others surrounding them. Seeming to defy gravity, these slender pines bend to the water. Their limbs gently touch the surface of the rippling pool. Surrounding them are trees, fallen and submerged completely in the water. Trying their hardest to avoid the same end as their fallen brothers and sisters, these two trees desperately bend in acrobatic ways to accommodate to the eroding bank. How long can they remain like this before succumbing to the same fate? Through the blanket of pinecone-covered boughs, the setting sun can be seen. The sun seemed to rest atop of the limbs of the near-fallen pine tree. Its yellow rays reflected off the shimmering lake and across to the seemingly endless river. In the cool, bitter air, ducks can be heard quacking and splashing near the shore of the lake. To the annoyance of me and the ducks, a child is squawking at them. Behind me, two squirrels playfully scamper through the maze of vines and trees. I have walked the Noland Trail many times, but standing there in that moment, I felt small and humbled. Every being on this trail had its own agenda and I was not part of it. I was a guest in the trees' home.