As I walk my path, staying my course it occurs to me that my compass or innate Naturalist tendencies resonate(sometimes loudly!) and nudge(very pushy!) me ever forward towards my true north-my thoughts and dreams of earth, wind and sky within our Natural World.
Ever simple ideas, moments, even imaginings of my own native peoples –somewhere, more often than not accompany me out in the field anywhere.
The original tribal Naturalists that once hunted and fished along the coastal sands on and around Fishers Island- there are moments when I feel passionate that my steps slip raw and well worn into theirs…each fleeting moment, shadow, breath of breeze fitting effortlessly into someone else’s ….somewhere in time.
Simply, I always look for proof of this feeling.
While walking the small shore of Mile Creek in Old Lyme, CT. I gazed across the Sound and through the sea smoke of a winter morn-squinting to see my “homeland”, an Island vacant now of hunters and gatherers…my eyes fall upon the immediate sand beneath me.
I see an arrowhead, Perhaps, from the long ago Nehantick (Niantic) tribe, east of the Connecticut River, blazing trails amidst “long necked waters”….naturally.