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Natural Causes
Reality isn’t an abstraction in the wild.
For thousands of years philosophers have speculated about what is real, as if reason could do what the five senses cannot. The discussion almost always goes astray, sinking deep into the quagmire of semantics until it all seems like so much frivolous wordplay. But life itself takes center stage in any heartfelt consideration of the matter. And death, of course, is right there with it.
Such discussions usually occur indoors, in urban areas, in halls of higher learning where books and papers are the fundamental reality. Yet deep in the nearby forest an unending drama is being played out with all the intensity of creation and apocalypse, undercutting the petty abstractions of the frail human mind. Oddly enough, philosophers like me retreat into the forest to relax, to escape the heaviness of abstract thoughts and simply be in the world for a while. We do not expect to learn anything in the process.
The surrounding trees slowly take shape in the first light of day as I crawl from underneath my tarp. Jesse, a long-haired German Shepherd and faithful companion, follows my lead. She emerges from the same makeshift shelter to yawn, stretch and relieve herself. A quick breakfast then we bushwhack back to the trail a hundred yards away, leaving our camp hidden in the thick brush along Bourn Brook. The trail is shrouded with mist.
