Summer Fields of my Youth

Have you ever been asked, “If you could go back in time and relive a day in your childhood, where and when would you go?” I have been asked this question, and the answer is easy for me.

I remember a sunny summer day, a slight breeze blowing across our field and waving the long-stemmed grass. I can see a forest full of jack, white, and red pine, as well as a few spruce and balsam, before the treeline gives way to lower ground and yields to a tamarack-dense swamp.

After my chores were done, I informed my mother that I was going for a walk to explore. She admonished me to pack a sandwich and a mason jar of water, so I placed them in my army surplus rucksack, slung the pack onto my back, and struck out on foot to explore the wilderness. I felt a unique sense of freedom as I tromped across the wide-open field towards the forest, and little did I know, I would not experience this feeling again until I was much older. Sometimes, we are ignorant of the most valuable things in our lives.

In the forest, there were remnants of long-abandoned cellars that were associated with moonshine stills from the Depression era. I forget the exact number, but I think there were 7 or 8 of these within easy walking distance. As a child, I knew the location of every site, and I would visit them to root around in the dirt for long-lost objects, much like a European pig sniffing and rooting for truffles. I often found antique bottles that I added to my bottle collection which, to my childhood way of thinking, were much more valuable than mere truffles.

One area in particular reminded me of a cathedral because of the towering pillars of red and white pines. Their scent wafted on the breeze, and to this day, when I smell pine, I am reminded of this place. Unlike other locations in the forest, the ground here was carpeted with grass and had no underbrush. I could wander with ease through this sun-dappled refuge, and my being was flooded with a sense of awe and peace. This, I realize now, really was a cathedral–a natural temple, one where my inner self was nourished in a way no traditional house of worship could ever hope to match.

This experience has stayed with me all my life, and I still find my refuge and restoration in wild places.

So now I ask you, “If you could go back in time and relive a day in your childhood, where and when would you go?” Wherever that may be, make sure to pack a sandwich and a mason jar full of water!