Brief-Form Post #37: Autumn Mid-Day Descent to Monte Sano’s Wells Memorial Trail!
I am pleased to add the 37th of my GBH Brief-Form Posts (Less than five minutes to read!) to my website. I tend to get a bit wordy with my routine Posts. I don’t want my enthusiasm for thoroughness and detail to discourage readers. So, I will publish these brief Posts regularly.
On October 30, 2024, 69 days since my total right knee replacement surgery, I ventured solo to the Wells Memorial Trail at Alabama’s Monte Sano State Park. The difficulty is only moderate, yet following five surgeries (including triple bypass) in 16 months, my strength, endurace, and confidence are not up to par. The magnificence of the Well Memorial cove hardwood forest beckoned. I accepted…and subsequently celebrated…the test. I offer these observations, reflections, photos, and brief videos from my afternoon sauntering.
The trailhead is located at Three Benches, a confluence of several trails.
Parked at the bicycle pavillion, I descended toward Wells via the Sinks Trail. The upper slope forest carries thick ropes of grape vine; their leafy vegetation rides the tree canopy, enjoying full sunlight. People assume the grape vines climb the trees. No, the vines originate from seed or vegetative sprouts when the forest begins anew following natural disturbance, agricultural abandonment, or timber harvesting. The young vines reach skyward as the trees grow. The vine on the yellow poplar tree at right did not need to grow a stout trunk to support its wieght; the poplar did the grunt work…the heavy lifting.
My heart soared as I entered the cathedral forest. The trees tower. The changing autumn foliage presented a stained glass backdrop.
My meager words add little…and maybe even detract from…the somber grandeur of this special place.
I recorded this 59-second video along the trail through some hefty, heaven-reaching oaks and hickories:
Conservationist Aldo Leopold once said that he loves trees, then added that he is in love with pine tree. I am in love with northern red oak, the headliner in the Appalachian forests that shaped my life-passion and vocation.
The images of forest and wandering trail need no narrative.
The bird-pecked yellow poplar and its ascent to the heavens asks nothing from me, and in return gives far more than I ask.
One of the three benches and the Wells sign are the surgery-recovery benchmark I sought. I recalled my recreational competetive distance running days (competed against my prior best times) when I crossed the finish line for a marathon. In its special way, reaching the benches was a crossing of equal weight and significance.
I recorded this brief video lying on my back near the trailhead, gazing into the high canopy above me:
Ah, who could ask for more! A large yellow poplar, stunning oaks and hickories, leafy path, and autumn-yellow forest glow.
Here is my 58-second video showing the beckoning trail:
A fallen hollow oak branch served as a hickory nut snackbar.
I ascended back through the upper slope natural grape arbor, completing a notably rewarding hike, a Nature-Buoyed Aging and Healing venture.
I’m grateful that such pleasures are within reach and that I am able to once again thoroughly and delightfully experience them.
I accept the challenge of distilling these Brief-Form Posts into a single distinct reflection, a task far more elusive than assembling a dozen pithy statements. William Wordsworth captured Nature’s magic in simple beautiful verse:
Come forth into the light of things, let Nature be your teacher.
