Trending
I have always felt a very strong pull toward nature. Perhaps it is in my blood since many of my best childhood memories took place in or near the woods. I grew up on the outskirts of Lewistown in a small community where everyone knew their neighbors and were always ready to help when needed. I had variety of relatives living within walking distance and often heard from my mother, "Rhonda, take these leftovers up to your grandma," or "Go get Mammy (my great-grandmother). There is a snake in the yard." Yes, my 90-pound when dripping wet great-grandmother, Mammy, was a tough one. She smoked like a fiend and when she gave us candy, we would stuff it into our pockets "for later" since it was inedible, unless you had an affinity for smoke infused foods!
That said, it was a wonderful place to grow up since some of my best adventures and a lot of self-discoveries took place just a short walk into the woods behind my house. I would take my dog and escape into those woods, find a nice, picturesque spot near the creek where the pines were thick, and the ground made soft by the fallen needles. I spent hours daydreaming and self-philosophizing. I then captured those all-so life altering (or so I thought), adolescent musings down on paper.
My cousins lived just a few houses away and my brother and I spent many afternoons with them ice skating on the creek. Looking back, I guess I was always a bit peculiar, even back then, for we often reminisce about the time I decided to walk all the way back home through the woods in my ice skates. It just seemed too difficult a task to remove them. In my juvenile brain I thought traversing the uneven, brush-tangled, woods would somehow be less laborious. I also remember my mom and dad taking my brother and I on walks through those woods where we would always stop at the bent over tree that was perfect for perching.
Not only did I have the privilege of exploring those woods, but as luck would have it my father had a half-brother who lived deep in the mountains of Juniata County in Black Log Valley on property that had been in my family for over 100 years. Oh, how I loved to visit Uncle Walter. He was a true mountain man. You don't believe me? He, my father, and many of the Kelley clan were loggers and Walter certainly looked the part. He was tall and broad, and could he swing an axe! One day some gentlemen from the Sears & Roebuck Catalog came by and asked Walter to pose with one of their axes. I still treasure my copy of that ad as well as fan mail that he received after it was published!
Still not convinced, how about this? He lived in a cabin that was insulated with torn apart cardboard boxes, never had running water, unless you count the stream out back where his tin cup hung on a stick, and always used an outhouse. His only mode of transportation was an ancient tractor that he drove to church and to Orbisonia for groceries! He also had a pet deer who liked to follow us around and occasionally wandered onto the porch.
This, without question, was my happy place, where tranquility and peace enveloped me as soon as I stepped out of the car. True freedom. I could run, skip, explore, shout, or be perfectly still and enjoy the quiet. Everything that clamored for my attention was stripped away and all that remained was pure and good. I soon learned that the woods would always be my catharsis, the place I would run to when my life was out of balance, where I could find peace and commune with my creator. Anyone who knows me will tell you that I would rather be there than anywhere. So, yes, perhaps it is in my blood and has been since childhood and for that I will be forever grateful. Thankfully, we all have access to beautiful local forests, so what are you waiting for?
"Come to the woods, for here is rest." -- John Muir.
¯¯¯
Rhonda S. Kelley is executive director of the Juniata River Valley Chamber of Commerce.