Today, three days after the Nashville Flood of 2010, I ventured out for a six mile trail run on the Mossy Trail in my beloved Percy Warner Park (PWP). In the last week PWP had been fondly mentioned by Tom's two daughters, T & L's, who had blossomed into state ranked athletes under the tutelage of the dense deciduous forest. In a few months their anchor, Tom and I, to this woodland mentor would be gone. Like me, of all the places in Nashville it would be these woods that they would miss the most and place a permanent kernel of sorrow in their belly at the loss.These woods have always felt gentle--non- threatening--except for the occasional swooping owl, cocky coyote, bossy yellow jackets, or lethargic rattlesnake(who was too lazy to rattle) and would rather terrify a few hikers than slink off to the 2,000 other available acres. Every so often an old lumbering tree would get fed up with posturing toward the sky and fall across the trail increasing the risk of poison oak irritating my delicate skin, or a tick feasting on it . Nothing like the cougars, bears, sassy rattling rattlers, forest fires, and blizzards I was anticipating with my move to the Cascadian wilderness of WA.
However, the woods were different this morning. Still imprinted in my mind from the weekend were the awesome images of the sublimity of Mother Nature I'd seen relived on the local media; interstates, subdivisions, floating churches, and us-- all at Her mercy under the deluge of 16 plus inches of rain in less than 24 hours .
As I set out on the trail, surprisingly, the earth was a firm rich red, cushioning my footfalls and allowing me to lift my gaze to a transformed Mossy trail. Whole trees were uprooted creating craters that had to be gingerly traversed. Deep turrets appeared at the bottom of a knob; I felt as if I was performing a plyometric drill, as I sidestepped over the pseudo earthquake chasms. The dripping springs was the easiest to navigate as a shingle slate bridge had formed making it a cinch to cross. Gully-washes of debris had altered the camber of the trail, while the strewn trees made it difficult to tell where I was exactly on my trusty route. Chipmunks and squirrels were squeaking and scurrying as they seemed as confused as me with all the rearranging of flora, rock, and earth.
However, in that confusion a calmness settled over me as I realized that the sublimity of nature is universal and is not reserved for the wilderness. While nature's touch looks rough and raw in Wa, I expect I will feel her gentle caress too. I don't have the luxury of Providence to guide, or protect me; I only have the inspiration of nature to inspire me and make me feel alive, for that I'm thankful.
