Empty Spaces.

Photo by: Tim Bindner Photography

My hike today felt like an old pair of jeans.  You know the ones that have been worn and washed so much they feel like a second skin.  My 3.89-mile trek felt very comforting and was much needed.

As often happens on my early Sunday morning hike, I was alone.  I longed and yearned for the solitude that I know I often get on these early Sunday morning hikes.  As the rest of the world slept in or recovered from late-night celebrations on St. Patrick’s Day, I honestly felt I had the world to myself, or at least this small area to myself.  Within hours the world would awaken and the hustle and bustle of life would begin, but I took great solace in knowing I had some time to myself.

As I headed down the concrete path toward the lake I could not help but think of some lyrics of a Pink Floyd song called Empty Spaces.  “What shall we use to fill the empty spaces, where we used to talk?“  I reflected on my most recent hike, and also on how so many people feel that need to ‘fill’ empty spaces with talking.  My mother cannot stand silence and must fill dead air with talking.  I know others, that must ask constant questions and yet others who must share every thought to fill the empty spaces.  For those that know me, they know I also like to talk, but I also very much appreciate long periods of silence.  When I hike, I have found over these few short months, that is what I most appreciate about nature, is the silence, or in many cases the lack of human conversation.  Nature has its way of communicating, as I experienced today with the gentle tapping of a woodpecker off in the distance, the rustling of leaves as squirrels race from tree to tree, birds singing, geese honking, trees creaking at their joints as the wind pushes them in various directions, and my favorite the sounds of water flowing over, around, and under rocks in the numerous creeks that snake their way through the property.

For close to two hours, not a word was spoken to me or by me.  My reticence for this brief time was very calming.  I wondered why some people feel the need to fill dead air with talking?  The things I saw today, heard today and felt today, would like been lost if the idle conversation happened.  I was glad I was alone, I was glad I heard the sub song of crows, saw the scurrying of squirrels, the melodic songs of birds, and even the nervous stare of a coyote off in the distance.  In this world of up to the second news, social media, cell phones attached to our ears, fast food culture to which I am guilty, I think we have lost those truly important things God provides us.  As a society, we are too much focused on the here and now, living in the moment, and expecting the next moment to happen now, that rarely does anyone stop, take a deep breath, look around and see what is out there.

I was able to experience the chill of the early morning, the light fog illuminated by the early morning sun, the long dark shadows of the trees that appeared as long fingers reaching out across the forest, and finally the warmth of the sun as it gently caressed my face.  As the first rays of the sun hit my face, I stopped for a moment, closed my eyes and tilted my face upwards toward the sun.  In those few short minutes, I had no thoughts, no cares, no pain, and no worries.  I was able to find a brief nirvana my soul craves.

I hoped today’s hike carries with me throughout the week until I can get back out again.  I had aimlessly walked these many paths so many times yet I will never grow tired of this place.  I live in a place of brick, concrete, and steel but my soul and my heart will always live here.

Until next time,

Tim