Nature’s Inspiration at Scale

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I often think back to my first close-up view of Mount Denali. I had hiked up Mount Quigley one late August morning, providing a clear, cloud-free view of Denali’s north face from just 20 miles. Because the big one rises from 2,000 feet above sea level on its north side, it ascended within my field of view 18,000 feet vertical, all of it visible in one magnificent image. I could imagine nothing more grand. Everest reaches 11,000 feet higher, yet no where does it show an 18,000 vertical face. Even as I contemplate such grandeur, I recall someone saying decades ago that were Earth the size of a ping-pong ball, it would actually be smoother than the little plastic sphere. Scale determines so much. Close to my temporary WV home, Dolly Sods provides some great panoramas (this view and the Feature Image of this post):

Beautiful in that larger view, the Sods generate yet another scale of special beauty and perspective up close:

Slice the scene even more narrowly, and a hidden world emerges. We found this unidentified fungal fruiting body trail-side on a fallen birch, still at Dolly Sods.

Beauty, magic, awe, and wonder await the discerning hiker… the hiker who looks and sees. Perhaps decades ago, I remember a Nature documentary that began at day-to-day human scale and successively led the viewer outward into space one order of magnitude distance at a time. Out through the solar system, into the Milky Way, and then beyond into deep space, and other galaxies. I felt smaller and even more insignificant with each ten-fold leap.

The television program then reversed from human scale, by orders of magnitude smaller. Into the soil litter, soil micro-organisms, and by scale eventually into atomic and sub-atomic. Once again, scale makes all the difference. We can observe the forest at the price of missing the trees; and the trees at the cost of missing component life (and death). Yet another unidentified fungus infects this standing dead hickory about eight inches in diameter:

A living tree stands by the strength of its cellulose; a fungus stands by the sustenance it draws from the cellulose, digesting it one cell wall at a time. Each one of those minute fungal fruiting bodies will eject thousands, if not millions, of spores. Wind-borne (or maybe insect-disseminated) spores may have the good fortune of happening upon a recently dead, not yet colonized, host species. That tiny, invisible spore operates at a smaller scale. Each division has a division, and subsequently smaller world. A dead beech sapling also hosts micro-organisms, both fungal fruiting bodies and lichen mats.

As does a prostrate white pine:

Life is rich at multiple scales, each providing a glimpse into smaller and smaller domains, down to to the molecular. Though life does not extend outward larger and larger without end, the non-living world certainly reaches far beyond. At the risk of repeating one comparative example I’ve used from the lectern and in other postings, a photon would travel seven times around Earth in one second. That same photon at the speed of light would reach the center of our Milky Way galaxy, with its several hundred billion stars, only after 25,000 years. And our Milky way, this unimaginably large star cluster, is only one of some two trillion such galaxies. Too immense to grasp? You bet! So let’s return to our human scale world.

I found this multi-storied, yellow poplar apartment complex at Valley Falls State Park during the summer. Excavated by pileated woodpeckers in search of insect protein, these cavities now house all manner of life: insect, small mammals, snails, fungus, and who knows what else. All elements are intimately inter-related, from the cosmic to the sub-atomic.

What a blessed, miraculously interdependent world — physical and organic. The yellow poplar apartment complex will one day succumb to the forces of life, death, and gravity. This 30-inch-plus diameter, deceased maple is decaying toward the horizontal, even as a beech sapling stands ready to absorb and prosper from nutrients long-since sequestered as the maple flourished:

Leaves from a still-living red maple bring early fall color to this mossy seep among the rhododendrons atop Dolly Sods.

Not far from the boggy forest interior, the west-rim panorama opens to a larger scale. All we do and see in life and nature present at scale.

Too few people notice the dimensions that add vibrancy to life, living, and enterprise. There are those who can’t see the forest for the trees. Sadly, there are those, too, who see neither the forest or the trees. I look hard, seeking to see in multiple dimensions, yet I fear I am missing far too much. Better to be the miserable wretch who sees nothing beyond the digital… unaware of the rich palette unseen? No, I much prefer seeing a bit of something, rather than all of nothing.

Opening Our Eyes

Today (12/10), I drove Judy to the Pittsburgh airport, some 90 miles north, and returned to Fairmont. A quarter inch of snow dusted the ground last night, adding a hint of deeper, impending winter to the now dormant landscape. I thought, how gloomy, yet quickly dismissed that too-easy trap of negativity. Instead, I relished that my view at 70 mph now opened into the roadside forests. No longer simply a wall of green, the denuded trees and shrubs permitted deep looks at the forest floor and countless stems and trunks. Three full dimensions where during the growing season only two appeared to us.

It’s so easy to be blind to the world around us. Great Blue Heron borrows nature’s lessons, and instructs how to learn and apply them. Nature’s Wisdom and Power enrich my life. Great Blue Heron can help you harness Nature’s Power and Wisdom… in service to your life and enterprise. I am grateful for far more than most people dare to dream.

Life is rich and good. Nature informs, enriches, and inspires!

 

 

A Near-Final Week at Fairmont State University

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I write these words December 3, mostly intended for my December 10, column for the Times West Virginian. For this Great Blue Heron Blog Post, I’ve added a twist and turn here and there to bring it back to my Nature-Inspired Leading and Learning theme. The Feature Photo has me standing just this week at the Crepe Myrtle in front of FSU’s iconic Falcon Center, where we hosted the robotics competition I mention in the text below.

We just returned to Shaw House from the Annual Service of Lessons and Carols, the Fairmont State University Chorus (featuring the First Presbyterian Church Cambridge Hand-bell Choir and Children’s Choir). This wonderful Holiday Festival epitomizes the spirit of FSU/Community reciprocity… the spirit I refer to as Town/Gown. The Spirit (the Holy version) also entered the afternoon concert – the Presbyterian Church is a heavenly venue!

Town/Gown may actually serve to name the local ecosystem where Fairmont State University resides. The paragraphs below speak in no small way to our relationships with other organisms residing along side us.

This entire past week offered a full menu of semester wrap-up activities, Holiday celebrations, and other events signaling my waning Interim Presidency. Judy and I over-ate Thanksgiving with our son and his family north of Pittsburgh. Our visits with them will be less frequent once we leave Fairmont. We enjoyed Sunday afternoon and Monday morning at Stonewall Jackson Resort. A symbol of north-central WV that we will carry with us. We considered it just one more slice of Almost Heaven!

Monday evening, we enjoyed sharing dinner and dessert with our Fighting Falcons Volleyball team and coaches at Shaw House. Our treat to these wonderful student athletes who graciously made us feel throughout the fall that we belonged to their family. Competitors, scholars, leaders, and citizens extraordinaire! So many people thank us for inviting them to our home. Not so, Shaw is their home. We are simply privileged to live here… and to share it with this great university community.

Judy prohibited my Tuesday evening return to Shaw until after the HOPE event – ladies only — a fund-raiser for our local battered-women shelter. Yet another great use of an FSU venue for supporting a pressing community cause. I did reap some reward by returning before catering had carted off the goodies to the Falcon Center. Ah, another FSU benefit I will miss. Aladdin does a fantastic job feeding campus and community – another invaluable FSU partner.

Wednesday, I enjoyed delivering an open lecture at West Virginia University, just 20 miles North of us. A thirty-year friend is Dean of the Davis College of Agriculture, Natural Resources, and Design. You may have guessed my topic: The Nature of West Virginia Life! We enjoyed a standing room crowd. I spread the gospel of Fairmont and sang the praises of FSU.

Thursday evening, we once again hosted a community dinner at Shaw – Leadership Marion County. Nearly fifty attendees: LMC Board, participants (and guests), and some FSU folks. I can assure you that Marion County’s future is in good hands. Everyone thoroughly enjoyed the food, beverages, and fellowship. How do I know? We had a hard time getting them to leave! A great bunch and a wonderful tribute to the value of investing in our community’s future.

Yet another example Saturday and Sunday of what an engaged FSU brings to our fair community, we hosted the WV State Robotics Championship. Well over 500 participants, chaperones, and family members. Saturday’s competitors were kindergarten through middle school; Sunday’s at the high school level. Many of these out of town guests spent money in town – food, lodging, etc. We hope many of the young people elect to return for subsequent competitions and eventually enroll as Falcons.

Also Saturday, Judy and I hosted another 120 of our best friends at Shaw for refreshments to recognize completing seniors and their families. We do this now in lieu of a fall graduation. We love hearing the amazing stories of family engagement to enable their offspring’s progress and degree fulfillment. Lots of laughter and tears of joy! Nothing satisfies me more than seeing success manifest as celebration.

Oh yeah, we also welcomed good crowds to the Feaster Center for both men’s and women’s Fighting Falcon basketball Saturday afternoon. Once again, a Town/Gown occasion.

I could not have better designed a week that represents this incredible FSU/Fairmont community joint venture. We are in this together. As I’ve noted before, we are jointly blessed, as James Norton so eloquently expressed in his November 30, Times West-Virginian Letter (An FSU gift to Fairmont is appreciated). He spoke of Fairmont without FSU: “How deadly would that be!” He mentioned his “moment of reconsideration and Thanksgiving, one that visualized professors, students, and other staff, and all the blessings their pursuits in science, art, literature and philosophy bring because FSU is here.”

Every ecosystem has its keystone species — there is no debate that FSU is this community’s keystone… its anchor… its distinguishing feature. FSU’s roots sink deeply into the fertile community soil here along the Monongahela River. We draw sustenance and nurture from the richness of our Marion County environment. FSU can be the mighty oak. FSU and Fairmont – mutual reciprocity; shared dreams; and absolute interdependence. I urge you to reach high together. Your future is bright.

 

A View of Fairmont State University’s Ecosystem

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FSU’s Science and Technology Dean Don Trisel sent his drone with camera aloft 7:30 AM November 20. Looking north, the view captures campus and the hills beyond. Almost Heaven, don’t you think! A typical landscape of North-Central, Wild Wonderful West Virginia. Our “College on the Hill” campus rises some 300 feet from Locust Avenue in the foreground to the physical plant buildings at the distant-center tree line.

Shaw House, the President’s residence, where I have stayed for nearly five months, sits in the copse of trees in the upper left quadrant of the main campus. My office is in Hardway Hall (front-right), the long building with the columns. A beautiful campus in a grand location, one where I am at home and thriving. No wonder deer frequent my yard. The surrounding forest simply extends into our community.

The deer recognize no city boundary. They observe only the extent of suitable habitat and available browse. Resident squirrels, raccoons, ground hogs, opossums, and other critters pay no mind. Same for birds. For that matter, thunderstorm cells can’t discern forest from campus from downtown. They simple form, rumble, and move along with air currents. Likewise, the wind itself cares not, nor do clouds.

Season changes the temporal context, yet the physical location a month earlier stays fixed.

And, Fairmont State University is one with the community of man, a cog in the gears of the city and its human inhabitants. Yes, FSU is an organism, living and breathing literally and metaphorically, in this three dimensional social, economic, and environmental ecosystem. Nothing illustrates our place in the intricate structure better than an aerial photo. More broadly, we fall within the Monongahela River Basin ecosystem, expanded from there to encompass the Mississippi Basin, and from there to temperate North America, and from there to our One Earth. The latter perspectives are beyond the reach of a drone or even a jet at 30,000 feet. Instead, try a photo from a satellite in Earth-orbit:

 

Great Blue Heron views enterprises in the same way. What constitutes your ecosystem? See my web site for more about the approach. I could not have effectively led this university as Interim President if I had looked only inward. FSU does not exist in a vacuum, nor does any individual, business, or organization. The world that affects us lies beyond our campus edge… and far beyond that as well. We are all creatures of our social, economic, and environmental ecosystems.

I will find a way before I depart Fairmont to secure a first-hand aerial view from a small plane. Short of that, Don’s drone provided a surrogate. I’ve reviewed countless aerial photos over my practicing forester days. However, never has one been an adequate substitute for being airborne, cruising above the canopy, looking down, at liberty to scan where my eye and the flight take me. I assure you, I will take my camera along, and record fodder for a few more blog posts. My heart and soul soar with me as we dance on laughter-silvered wings!

Whether I am deep in the forest, hiking stream-side, pausing at an overlook, or flying high above the ground, I find beauty, magic, wonder, and awe in Nature’s bounty and God’s work.

Call me – we’ll examine your enterprise from an ecosystem perspective.

Summer-Like November Hike Along the Mon-River Rails-to-Trail

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I hiked six-and-one-half miles along the Monongahela River Rails-to-Trail November 5, 2017, near Prickett’s Fort State Park. The temperature of 77 degrees masked the season. Leaves have mostly dropped, attributable to photo-period and evolved seasonal habit. We have not yet had a killing frost here in North-Central West Virginia.

We’ll call this hike an escape to Nature. At 52-minutes out, walking at a little faster than four miles per hour (yeah, I timed a bit over 14 minutes between measured miles), I sat leaning against a large yellow poplar (Liriodendron tulipifera for the Latin hardcore).

 

 

The Featured Image looks across the river from where I rested. A pleasant respite from a warm hike. I note a thin vine clinging above my head. Interestingly, such aerial navigators generally grow vertically with the tree, matching the 100-foot-plus poplar foot-by-foot as the tree extended its leader a little higher each season.

Man has left deep footprints along the Mon.

View from the Trail — a still-active rail line that crosses over the R-to-T.

Yet, the trail reveals beauty along the quiet river.

Tranquility dominates.

Just 300 feet down-river (to the right in the photo above), man exhibits his capacity for spoiling splendor and plundering plenty. Homo sapiens — such an odd species, too often content to foul our own nest.

An abandoned cabin on a bluff above the magnificent river.

I found my hike therapeutic. Nursing an upper respiratory bug, and spending a weekend alone with Judy back in Alabama for three weeks, I needed to leave the computer keyboard for a while. To add a little fuel to my Nature-powered engine. To inject a bit of Earth Stewardship passion into this week’s GBH Blog post. I occasionally know my topic ahead of the Tuesday morning posting. My hike made this one easy. Nature and Human Nature spin in and out of paradox and irony — harmony and contrast. The ramshackle cabin the peaceful river brought an Aldo Leopold quote to mind, from A Sand County Almanac: “All conservation of wildness is self-defeating, for to cherish, we must see and fondle, and when enough have seen and fondled there is no wilderness left the cherish.” This river attracts many who like to be near it, yet who have little sense of our individual and collective obligation to practice an informed land ethic.

I am committing my life through Great Blue Heron to promote an Earth Stewardship ethic, and to help individuals and enterprises harness Nature’s wisdom and power. My daily reflections desktop calendar offered a message the day of my hike… a message clearly inspired by Nature: “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.” Heraclitus. Like life, the river flows ever toward its rendezvous with the sea. Never does the same water pass again by any one shoreline post. I have walked along scores of rivers hundreds of times. I’ve transited 66.5 years, myself ever-changing, growing from a boy to a man, and then another man, and another as the years changed me. I see life, living, and Nature through a maturing mind, body, heart, soul, and spirit.

Nature opens all my portals — rewards every step, enriches every breath, and encourages thought and reflection like nothing else can. Great Blue Heron can help you engage your portals to open new horizons and discover possibilities that lie hidden within you and your enterprise.

 

 

A Simple Expression of Nature’s Beauty, Awe, Magic, and Wonder

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The old saw says a picture is worth a thousand words. I walked out of my Fairmont State University campus home to retrieve the Sunday paper this morning, glanced to the east, and succumbed to Nature’s greeting of beauty, magic, wonder, and awe. Overwhelmed by humility and lifted by inspiration, once again I know that I have a purpose — to do all I can to ensure that we steward this One Earth… to Care for Our Common Home. We are blessed beyond measure by Nature’s gifts.

Great Blue Heron — by way of my writing, speaking, and consulting — can help you apply Nature’s lessons for living, learning, serving, and leading. Harness the power and passion of Nature’s wisdom.

I will complete my FSU Presidency at the end of December, transitioning then to full time as Great Blue Heron CEO.

Little Things Matter — ‘U’ Better Believe IT!

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What’s a ‘U’? One of the 26 letters in our alphabet. A little less than four percent of the total, with a frequency of usage rate even lower at 2.758 percent (Wikipedia). Yet, look at the Feature Image for this post. Fairmont State University women’s tennis hosted our first home competition of the season several weeks ago. A couple days prior we had taken delivery of our new wind screen to lessen gusts and air turbulence on the courts. The old one was tattered and frayed. The vendor placed the new just in time for a breezy home encounter. We played the match, but with no small measure of embarrassment. The vendor had presented us with a bargain — gave us an extra letter. We swept doubles and singles play — winning on the Fairmount State University courts. Of course, since then the vendor has made good on the error.

Errors are common in Human Nature. A business committing too many mistakes finds itself struggling to generate profit. An individual similarly oriented likewise falls behind. Yet I have observed many times that I seldom have learned by doing things right. It’s the mistakes I’ve made and observed in others that teach deeply. I recall hearing the inarguable wisdom that experience is that thing you get right after you needed it! Thomas Edison famously quipped, “I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.” And Michael Jordan said in his Nike ad, “I’ve missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. Twenty-six times I’ve been trusted to take the game-winning shot… and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.”

Let’s hope the vendor, who cannot afford 9,000 missed shots, has learned a lesson.

Errors are likewise common in Nature. In fact, evolution is error-dependent. Our Earth environment ebbs and flows; fluxes and surges; warms and cools; adjusts to episodic and periodic solar activity, meteor and asteroid impact, and who knows what other influences from within this dynamic planet. Dynamism capable of lifting marine limestone to constitute the summit of Mount Everest. Protein, cellular, and other code mistakes lead to adaptation to conditions peculiar to the norm. Organisms evolved of necessity as life altered the environment. For example, from anaerobic to oxygen-rich… as photosynthetic plant life literally took root and prospered.

Dealing with Change

Life on Earth knows no stasis, and likely never will. Nor will your business, enterprise, and life. As humans, we are blessed with mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual adaptability. We deal effectively with change only when we anticipate it, prepare for it, and react to its advance and onset. Nature, too, has seen to each living organism having a set of tolerances within which it operates. Climate offers a wide band of precipitation, temperatures, and conditions within the normal variation that characterizes any place on our tiny planet. No need for evolutionary adaptations to operate within those wide normal bounds. Reach beyond the normal for extended periods… and evolution kicks in over generations. As enterprise managers, we should know the variations within the normal that influence operations.

Again and again, I urge you to look — know what is normal for your enterprise and life environment. See — anticipate the signs and signals that portend operating environment shifts, surges, and influences. Feel — see deeply enough to anticipate the effects on you and your enterprise. Act — stasis does not exist; react to change that is imminent and certain.

My Fairmount ‘U’ is an annoyance, spurring only our action to secure remedy. The vendor should see it as a signal prompting greater attention to detail. The little things do matter. A chill in the air does not necessarily portend the next continental ice sheet advance, yet it may announce an early frost. We are well-advised to know our operating environment well enough to distinguish ice age from an early October cold front. Chicken Little did not, and he paid the price of embarrassment and ridicule.

I close with a bit different twist. Although little things do matter, sometimes little things are just that… little things. Over-reacting is often painful, always stressful, and frequently expensive. We can handle the season’s first frost simply by closing the windows and lighting a fire. We can (and did) manage a bonus ‘U’ with a simple phone call to a very accommodating vendor.

Reverse Sabbatical Leave

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I had planned to work full-time another 3-5 years when Antioch University (AU) reconfigured June 2016 (a month from my 65th birthday). Reconfigured to deeply centralize and eliminate its five campus presidents (me among them) and the local Boards of Trustees. I immediately sought yet another permanent presidency. I thank God, I did not succeed. By June 2016, I did, in fact, need a change. I needed a break from leading a university, especially one tacking in a direction in which I felt uncomfortable sailing. I did succeed in redirecting my actions and interests to writing, consulting, and retirement, and preparing to do so full time and long term. My signing contract with AU relieved me of financial concerns through June 2017. Operating from my retirement home office, I wrote and published Nature Based Leadership and Nature-Inspired Learning and Leading, and created Great Blue Heron, LLC. I completed a major environmental education project in west-central Tennessee. I wrote a near-final version of Harnessing Nature’s Wisdom and Power, which I set aside, unconvinced that a third in the series furthered the tenets and principles already elucidated.

Like these thunderstorms sagging east at sunset, my Reverse Sabbatical brings peace and fulfillment.

No doubt, I made the most of my new-found freedom – in effect, an imposed “sabbatical leave,” which Merriam-Webster online defines as “a leave often with pay granted usually every seventh year (as to a college professor) for rest, travel, or research.” Renewing and refreshing as it was, I was feeling a sort of professional emptiness – a void – when my email delivered notice of the Fairmont State University Interim Presidency and a query regarding my interest. My professional blade felt a bit dull – perhaps now I could sharpen the edge. Although I enjoyed the relative leisure of few pressing commitments, I did miss the action, intensity, and urgency. No, I did not long for another permanent presidency (3-5 years), yet with the prospect of a six-month interim, blood coursed through my veins. And the location near my birth home called to me. I threw my hat in the ring, with nothing to lose. I did not need the job as a means to an end, having retired once, assured that we could live long-term at a level to our liking.

A Reverse Sabbatical

Could this six-month immersion in any sense of the term be cast as a period of “rest, travel, or research”? No, the specific words are wrong, yet the result is surely one of renewal and recharge. I believe I can view it as a reverse sabbatical leave. Returning to deep task immersion as a means for regaining an edge. Like a solar panel reactivating with the sun’s rise.

I view diving back into the deep end as a reverse sabbatical – a return to the game, intensely engaged, and as a time-duration-certain re-entry to leading another university. Now entering the second half of my term as Interim President, I may be operating at a level more intense than at any point in my career. A normal presidency is a marathon. I am a former marathoner, a tested distance runner. Once I had run my first 26-miler, I knew how to pace myself. I maintained a much faster rate per mile for 5-Ks. Six-months is a five-K! My best marathon: 7:12 per mile; my best 5-K: 5:38. A little over five-and-half minutes per mile for me was flying; I am flying here at FSU! I found marathons exhausting; 5K’s exhilarating. Both exacted a toll. Only the marathon, however, left me nearly debilitated for days.

Knowing that this interim presidency is a five-K, I can push, surge, and pound — the finish line is ahead, within reach. Now more than three months into it, I recognize the surge of professional renewal… the rush of vocational adrenaline. I’m back in the race… competing and adding value. The gun fired July 1, and I am off and running! Once again, I have a team, colleagues, a shared cause, and a noble purpose to attend. I am energized in ways more immediate, palpable, and real than drafting essays and establishing consulting relationships. Don’t get me wrong, I will return to writing and consulting when FSU’s new president accepts the mantel of leadership in early 2018. I will do so with relish and joy, yet perhaps with a tinge of regret about letting go so soon after embedding deeply and with full passion for this wonderful regional state university. I see my imminent departure the same way Judy and I view out-of-town guests – we prefer they leave when we wish they could stay longer!

And, I will return to the computer keyboard with a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment, with the knowledge that I can still do it – that is, lead a university. I will return with stories, tales, memories, and lessons from a brief, yet very deep immersion in yet another university, community, and region. I will draw upon that package of experiences in both my writing and consulting. All of that sure sounds like professional renewal and recharge!

Relevant Lessons from Nature or Inspired by Nature

Granted, I came to Fairmont the end of June, finding it still a bit spring-like compared to the deep summer of late June in Alabama. I admired and appreciated the vibrant greens, lush growth, and special rhythms during an unusually wet July. We had warm days, some hot, yet not at sweltering and unbearable levels. Metaphorically and professionally, I remain in deep spring. Just as I would feel renewal, recharge, and recovery with spring’s arrival after a long winter, those three ‘Rs’ are flowing within me now. This interim presidency is a professional spring elixir.

Over my career, a fourth ‘R,’ rest, has never been too important. During my distance running decades, rest translated to a shortened three-to-five-mile morning jog. Rest is what we knew we would do when life slowed and we desired a slower pace. I am not resting now as Interim President. Anything but. I set my alarm for 3:59 AM – no, don’t ask why such an odd number. May take a psychologist to decipher that one. With Judy spending 70 percent of this period at our Alabama residence, I am pushing hard, demanding much of myself, giving this everything I have. Yet I feel absolute renewal, recovery, and recharge. Hence, this interim opportunity is doing for me what I suppose sabbatical leaves are intended to do for those who take them mid-career.

Nothing about this post-retirement burst, reentering the game, seems unnatural. I feel as though the afterburner ignited. Some might say that writing two books and starting a company did not constitute retirement, yet I felt some lessening. As I reexamine that year, I see a revelation that escaped me until this very moment.

I see this interim presidency as a welcome change of pace, another challenge, and a source of renewal unmatched in professional richness and life reward. I am astounded by the wealth of fulfillment. There is no way that a permanent presidency would be hitting the same buttons, unleashing parallel sentiments and such powerful vocational endorphins. I believe a good deal of what makes this immersion so powerful is that I can feel my writing and consulting batteries recharging, and my reservoir of ideas, stories, and lessons deepening. Not many people can re-enter the springtime of their life. I am blessed to have another shot at a professional vernal recharge. I can hear the vocational equivalent of spring peepers! Spring ephemerals are dressing my symbolic forest floor in carpets of color and vitality?

Actual seasonal changes progress around me. During these three short months, my three immediate neighbors (four-legged) have flourished. The two little ones have developed from intensely-spotted tykes to now long-legged and teen-like, their spots fading.

At the University of Alaska Fairbanks, our biologists in the Institute of Arctic Biology studied the Arctic Ground Squirrel, a little gopher-like high latitude mammal whose body temperature falls below freezing during the long Arctic winter. And picture them fully vibrant come spring and summer – amazing, high-energy, and in constant motion. Renewal and recharge are natural. I did not invent this pattern that I have adopted. I discovered that this is my own rhythm, not forced upon me by social constructs or the dictates of an employer, but one that fits me at some visceral, engrained, and perhaps evolutionary level. Fortuitously, I have awakened to what may be hard-wired in me.

If I am certain of anything, it is that we humans do not stand above nature. We are one with nature. I am blessed to have found where I fit, and I am grateful that, like the Arctic Ground Squirrel, I can live the pattern that is most natural for me. However, none will find their pattern unless able and willing to Look, See, Feel, and Act. Are you engaged in the natural world that envelops all of us? I am convinced that any of us can find the spring in our life. Any of us can discipline ourselves to look; train ourselves to see. Are you looking and seeing? Here’s what I saw on an early August evening from my front yard on campus!

So, as odd as it may seem, I consider this interim presidency a sabbatical… renewing, refreshing, recharging, and in some extraordinary way, even restful! What is natural for you? For your vocation? Your life? I urge you to explore your feelings, ambitions, and fulfillment.

These six months will allow me to serve a higher purpose. Four thousand young people at any one time here at Fairmont who will lead us into the distant tomorrows that I will not see. Who will carry the torch and meet the issues, problems, and opportunities decades beyond. I intend to learn much over these coming months – much about how I can modify my writing and consulting to more effectively reach them and future citizens. They will make the Earth stewardship decisions that will shape humanity seven generations hence… and beyond. My sabbatical may lead me to the key that I need to help unlock the future.

Warm wishes for the many springs of your life. They await your discovery and exploration!

 

Featured Image: Like these thunderstorms sagging east at sunset, my Reverse Sabbatical brings peace and fulfillment.

A New Day’s Dawning

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I took this photo from the back deck at Fairmont State University’s President’s residence this morning.

I could not resist sharing it — with little accompanying text. The image speaks for itself. You do not need my feeble words to interpret Nature’s beauty, magic, wonder, and awe.

Each day breaks with promise. We choose our attitude; we decide how to live… and to what end and purpose.

May you make your own day bright… and shine your light on others.

Enjoy!

Homecoming Weekend

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I’m writing these words on Sunday, the day after our 2017 Homecoming football game. What an incredible way to end my first three months! Allow me to restate some of the reflections I shared from the lectern at four venues, beginning Friday noon.

At the Emeritus Club Induction Luncheon, I expressed my view of the essential role that FSU plays in shaping lives, leaving an indelible mark that extends through life. A few years ago, I was driving east to an early fall morning meeting in New Hampshire, passing first through dense valley fog, and then climbing into the mountains, slowly ascending through improving visibility. As I entered a sweeping curve to the left, the sun’s orb burning through, back-lighting a fifty-foot dead birch, its skeleton nicely silhouetted. Every branch held scores of geometric orb-weaver spider webs, each fiber bejeweled by countless dew drops, festooning the barren tree. I embraced the sight, aching to snap a photo. Yet the road had no shoulder, and the fog still too thick for me to stop mid-lane.

I thought about the special alignment of conditions that enabled me to see the beauty, magic, wonder, and awe that were otherwise hidden within, invisible as I drove back down later that day. That image reminded me that what we do here at FSU is to make sure we provide the special conditions necessary to illuminate and reveal the beauty, magic, wonder, and awe that lie hidden within each of our students. Our inductees bear witness to our success five decades ago!

I will observe that the Hall of Fame Banquet Friday evening surpassed even my sky-high expectations! The gentlemen representing the 1967 National Champion Football Falcons carry the torch beautifully. I told them that they exemplify the informal, unofficial, reality-inspired FSU mission statement that I have adopted: To inspire, educate, and develop… values based workers, citizens, and leaders… committed to personal integrity, professional ethics, and selfless service. Again, it’s Steve’s interpretation of what FSU does oh so well!

Saturday morning, I helped welcome and greet the nearly 100 Falcon Family Association participants. Because only a staff member or two had heard my orb weaver tale, I related it again, telling parents and family members that they, too, are part of the equation for assuring the right conditions for discovering what lies hidden within! As an old forester, I do indeed believe that every lesson for living, learning, serving, and leading is either written indelibly in, or is powerfully inspired by Nature. I say to you, my readers, never forget my love of Nature and my appreciation for the rich and fulfilling environment of North-Central West Virginia, and everywhere I have resided (and visited)!

I focused my few opening remarks for the FSU Alumni Award Winners Saturday brunch on my already deep sense of attachment to this special institution. I mentioned seeing why folks are rooted here. What brings them back. How this college/university on the hill nurtures; guides; inspires; serves as a rock. A rock that anchors them, their vocation, their service, their spirit, and their life. I reminded them that the Fighting Falcon Spirit is soaring high; reaching deep; and linking the past to the present… and on to the future.

I urged all to take time today and every day… to pause; breathe deeply; feast with their eyes; feel with their heart; sharpen and refresh their  memories; and heed the call of Fairmont State University beckoning… again, and again, and again!

I’m reminded of Robert Service’s The Spell of the Yukon:

“It’s the great big broad land way up yonder.

It’s the forests where silence has lease,

It’s the beauty that fills me with wonder,

It’s the stillness that fills me with peace.”

May all of us carry The Spell of the Fighting Falcons with us forevermore! Service includes a line, “Oh God! How I’m stuck on it all.”

And I am!

Homecoming Parade

West Virginia Folklife Center

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Here at Fairmont, I write a weekly column for the Times West Virginian newspaper. I offer perspective from my Interim Presidency, and frequently weave a Nature-Inspired Learning and Leading thread. This essay/column appeared earlier in September.

When given the chance to submit my letter of interest and resume for the FSU Interim Presidency, I did what all of us do these days when we want to know a little (or a lot) more about anything. I visited the web site, which immediately piqued my interest. The web site certainly proved helpful, yet I am exceedingly spatial. I must see first-hand to truly appreciate a place.

My June 7, 2017 campus interview visit allowed time only to drive around FSU’s hilly campus, circle through the Shaw House (President’s residence) parking lot, swing by the athletic fields, and duly note the One Room Schoolhouse and the West Virginia Folklife Center. Parking behind Hardway, securing an escort to my interview with the Board of Governors at the Falcon Center, and then returning to Hardway to meet with the administrative team – all that served as merely a teaser. I wanted to know more – a lot more! About FSU and the Fairmont community, which I had seen as I drove into town and then back to I-79. But time ran out – I departed for Pittsburgh’s airport, hoping that I might be asked to return. The call came a week later.

I’ve dived deeply into FSU, Fairmont, and Marion and Harrison counties since July 1. Although I still have not examined the One Room Schoolhouse, four weeks ago I made it to the Folklife Center. Let me tell you – well worth the wait! What a tremendous regional resource. As Judy and I approached the front door, last year’s student Board member, Rachel Ball, exited with her friend Courtney. They had just left a class that meets at the Center. Rachel’s enthusiasm is richly contagious. She was among those who interviewed me at the Falcon Center. Her cheer, dedication, and love of FSU were among the factors convincing me that coming here would be a good result. Rachel encouraged Judy and me to see the new exhibit she is helping to create on the second floor.

Interim Director Pat Musick met us inside. Talk about enthusiasm – hers likewise knows no bounds. Pat’s linkage to the Center is both familial and professional, drawing her back to Fairmont after a long absence across the country. That’s another story… worth hearing and telling – another time! Judy and I fell in love with the Center. From the hemlock flooring and yellow poplar paneling (yes, I am a sucker for WV forest products!) to the local/regional historical settlement sequence from Native Americans to various waves of Europeans. The Center also incorporates FSU history.

The Center’s mission is compelling: The Frank and Jane Gabor WV Folklife Center is dedicated to the identification, preservation, and perpetuation of our region’s rich cultural heritage, through academic studies; educational programs, festivals, performances; and exhibits, publications. Everyone reading these words shares the heritage to some extent. [Note: I remind you Blog Post readers that I originally drafted these words for my Fairmont newspaper column.] Have you visited the Center? If so, come again – the exhibits cycle every few months. If not, make haste – it’s yet another element that makes FSU and Fairmont special.

I wanted to stay longer, reminding me of one of Robert Service’s poems that I read frequently during my Alaska days. From The Spell of the Yukon: There’s a land—oh, it beckons and beckons, And I want to go back—and I will. I feel the same way about the Folklife Center… and about this Wild Wonderful West Virginia. Service ended his epic ballad with words that apply well to the Nature of West Virginia, It’s the beauty that fills me with wonder, it’s the stillness that fills me with peace.

A web site cannot adequately express the magic, beauty, awe, and wonder of our SPECIAL place along the Monongahela River! Experiencing is believing.

The column ends there. Restricted to 600 words, I keep the message succinct and compelling. And I focus on the paper’s readers here in the Monongahela Valley. For the purpose of this Post on Great Blue Heron, I add a little additional context. Every place has its SPECIAL Nature — it’s beauty, awe, and wonder. The magic is there awaiting discovery for those willing and able to look, see, and feel. Admittedly, I am particularly smitten by this university, its setting, and its special Nature. Perhaps because I am residing here for six months, a not insignificant period of time during my early sunset years. Perhaps because it is my own Nature to seek and grasp the positive.

Yet, isn’t that what life and enterprise management entail? Fulfillment and satisfaction do not suddenly appear. We must look, discover, and embrace them. It’s the old glass-is-half-full attitude. I could instead reduce any place or enterprise to its distasteful elements, identifying multiple reasons to wallow in despair. Life is too short to accept the shadows. Seek the light; rejoice in the possibilities; accept the challenge to soar. Nature lifts my spirits… here in Fairmont, and wherever life’s journey has rooted me.

Featured Image: The West Virginia Folklife Center on the campus of Fairmont State University.