Seasons of Reflection

A Journey Through Western Tennessee’s Natural Tapestry

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Dear friends,

This essay originally appeared as a guest article on Alexander Crow’s The Crow’s Nest. I am sharing it here with my readers who may not have had the opportunity to read it previously.

Photo by Will Swann

In the heart of Western Tennessee lies a tapestry woven by the hand of nature itself. It's a realm where time slows down, the seasons dance in harmony, and the whispers of the earth echo through the trees. For three years, I've been fortunate to embark on a daily pilgrimage through this enchanting landscape, accompanied by my faithful companion, a rescue mut named Lola. Our shared adventures on these trails, winding through neighborhoods, forests, and fields, have become more than just a routine walk; they have become a journey of discovery, a canvas upon which the changing seasons paint their vibrant hues.

As I step out of my home each morning, greeted by the crisp Tennessee air, I am immediately attuned to the rhythm of the seasons. The world awakens from its slumber in the spring with a symphony of bird songs and the gentle rustle of new leaves. The air is infused with the sweet fragrance of blooming wildflowers, and the ground beneath my feet is soft with morning dew. Lola’s nose twitches with excitement as she catches the scent of rabbits, squirrels, and other dogs. Frogs croak with excitement in the nearby pond. It's a time of renewal, growth, and endless possibilities.

As the days grow longer and the sun climbs higher, summer descends upon the land with a blanket of warmth and abundance. The once bare branches of the oaks, maple, and birch are now lush with foliage, providing shade from the midday heat. The trails are alive with the buzzing of insects and the occasional flutter of butterfly wings. In the distance, I hear the call of a hawk circling overhead, its keen eyes scanning the landscape below for prey. Despite the sweltering heat, a sense of tranquility settles over the land, like a gentle lullaby coaxing the world into blissful repose.

But as the wheel of time turns, the landscape also undergoes its inevitable transformation. With the arrival of autumn, the trees ignite in a riot of colors, painting the hillsides with hues of crimson, gold, and amber. The air is crisp and invigorating, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and wood smoke. Lola and I meander along the trails, crunching through drifts of leaves as we go. It's a time of reflection, of letting go, and of embracing the beauty of impermanence. I watch the wildlife busily prepare for the long winter ahead, gathering food and fortifying their nests against the cold. There's a sense of urgency in the air, a reminder that change is inevitable and that we must cherish each fleeting moment while it lasts.

And then, as if by magic, winter descends upon the land like a silent shroud, enveloping everything in its icy embrace. Once teeming with life, the trails lie quiet and still beneath a blanket of snow. The trees stand stark against the pale winter sky, bare and skeletal branches against the cold. Yet, even in this barren landscape, there is a quiet beauty. I marvel at the intricate patterns etched into the frost-covered branches and how the sunlight filters through the icy crystals, casting prisms of light on the ground. Lola bounds through the snow, her breath forming clouds of steam in the frigid air. It's a time of introspection, solitude, and finding warmth amid winter's chill.

As I reflect upon the passing of the seasons, I am reminded of the timeless wisdom inherent in nature's cycles. Each season brings its gifts and lessons, its joys and sorrows. And yet, through it all, a thread of continuity binds us to the earth and each other. The ancestral peoples of this place, the Chickasaw, believe the land itself was sacred, the turning of the seasons attuned to the imperceptible but significant changes in each individual. In the turning of the seasons, like the Chickasaw, I find solace and inspiration, a reminder that life is a journey to be savored and embraced with an open heart. 

And so, as I walk these trails with Lola by my side, I am filled with profound gratitude for the beauty and wonder surrounding me. Each step is a meditation, each breath a celebration of life's infinite possibilities, instilling a deep sense of appreciation and hope. Ultimately, it is not the destination that matters but the journey itself—the moments of awe and wonder, the quiet reflections, and the simple joys of being alive in this magnificent world.

Until next time…