A Surprise in the Forest

A  Surprise in the Forest
                                                                             

It is twenty years since I, then a seventeen year old student, visited this area, walked along these trails and explored these forests.  The crystalline air and alpine beauty then were not more pleasurable than they are now;  I could not have felt more alive or more in tune with my surroundings.  But then I was on the threshold of manhood and as I think back upon the surprise in the forest that was to preoccupy my receptive youthful mind for many a day afterwards, I admit to the obvious; there was a sensibility keener than it is today.  After the passage of years I am a little less impressionable but, I hasten to add, not in any way jaundiced.  Of course this is natural if the impression upon a young consciousness was a sexual one; the impact and novelty of the experience is with the passage of time tempered by a mature appreciation - without losing intensity.  I sit here upon this tree-trunk , indulging in nostalgia as I breathe the mountain air and look again at this photograph with gum wrapper attached, which I have kept so carefully in this satchel over the years, and recapture the scene once again.  I describe it in words which perhaps I would not have used as a teenager but which accurately express his experience, enjoyment and wonderment of events then.                                   

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As always, I was intrigued by the amount of broken schist and granite along the trail I had traversed to this vantage point just above the tree line, having emerged from the forest below. I had been tempted to rest in the inviting shade of pine and spruce but chose rather what I knew would be the next pleasure of surveying from the starker height the vista of forests and meandering river and the conurbation of the town so far below.  I raised my new Leica (a recent seventeenth birthday present) and through the powerful telephoto lens identified distant features, wondering what it would be like to live in one of those houses upon the foothills of the distant tree- covered slopes.  I dislodged a rock with my boot and watched it tumble some distance toward some scrub, frightening a chipmunk that darted for cover.  Geology lessons fresh in my mind, I envisaged the historic movement of tons of such rock, glacial debris from under the weight of successive layers of snow and now widely spread over the slope.  But of snow at this time of the year there was little evidence - perhaps on the higher peaks.  My camera scanned again the green of the alpine forest to the blue-grey mountains beyond where, sure enough, there were patches of white that the summer sun, then warm on my back and pleasantly relieved by the mountain breeze, had failed to melt.

The allure of the trees below again drew me to their dappled shade and then toward the quiet, denser cover beneath them.  I came to a turning where, on my ascent, I had noticed what was barely a trail heading more steeply away into thicker forest, the knotted roots and loose rocks discouraging a foray into its depths.  But someone had recently gone down that path, I then noticed, from a shoe print and corresponding scuff mark on a rock and the awkward angle of a branch that had obviously impeded passage to the cool, thick depths beyond.
I paused; why should I want to proceed - the rest of the forest beckoned along easier paths?  Well, someone had ventured into uncommon territory; perhaps there was something worthwhile to discover. I am an adventurous person, perhaps inadvisably curious at times when I would be conscious of an increased heart rate signifying excitement or apprehension in confronting a challenge.  I chided myself; this was no big deal, for goodness sake, this was a public hiking area!  And so I proceeded, at first tentatively, across the obstacles along the uncertain trail.  I have often since reflected how significant that reconnaissance was, how emotive its discovery, how sensual and pleasurable, how salutary the impression upon my young senses.

After a short distance progress became easier as the trail generally descended, becoming less alpine and more tropical in nature.  Fresh footprints were evident in two different patterns, one heavier than the other - perhaps of an adult and juvenile or male and female - leading further into the cool shade of the firs and aspens.  The natural arbours that punctuated the undulating trail and that invited detours at every turn, presented endless forest charm and interest.  And I was not alone; the inquisitiveness of the marmots and ground squirrels scurrying along the branches and within the undergrowth, and the robin darting across my path to a higher branch caused me to stand motionless and attempt to take it in, entranced by my surroundings and momentarily forgetting the lure of whatever was ahead.

I was on the path for about fifteen minutes when I became aware of the sound of water and after a further short distance discovered the source, a fair-sized stream where the undergrowth had been disturbed on the downstream side.  I pushed the long grass aside and followed the bank with little difficulty, my heartbeat a little faster.  Again, I was both surprised and entranced by my idyllic surroundings as the grass gave way to a variety of flowering plants; pestemon, asters, bluebell and even the marsh marigold that had found its niche along the water’s edge.  The stream meandered through the trees, in some places in bright sunshine brilliantly catching the sun as it coursed over rapids and then suddenly quietening in an expanse of sunlit water.  I was enraptured; to my mind this fairylike environment of flowers and trees and grass, of sparkling liquid light and cool shade, of inviting peaceful repose and yet of heightened senses, was Eden itself!


I paused; had those whose prints I had seen exited further along or were they at that moment sharing the pleasures of the place?  I proceeded and, within a grove of fir trees, approached an outcrop of large boulders which obscured a part of the water's edge and extended beyond it into a natural pond.  It was then, hearing voices, I stopped in my tracks. They were young, clear in unmistakeably carefree conversation interspersed with much laughter behind the nearest boulder and hidden from my view.  Involuntarily, I withdrew a pace against the nearest pine trunk and considered my next move. I could proceed, doubtless surprise them and introduce myself or move back and to the left from which I could see further around the rock and establish who they were.  Before I could decide two forms moved into my view, prancing away hand in hand from behind their shielded position toward another group of rocks some ten yards further along the water's edge, their animated laughter unabated over perhaps an image on what appeared to be a smartphone in his hand.  Male and female, as I had conjectured, they sported with lissome grace in all the freedom of their bronzed nakedness. 

His tall form was leanly chiseled, the fluid movement of his body and limbs superbly athletic, his back tapering from broad shoulders to a narrow waist set in the firmest buttocks above long, defined femoral biceps and, lower, his rounded, tapered calves completing the picture of a perfectly unified physical being, an Adonis if ever there was one.  She hopped upon a ledge as he turned in my direction, I think to shield the instrument from the sun, while she, slightly behind him, her arm loosely over his shoulder and her tresses falling across his chest, pointed to the image on the instrument and whispered something in his ear, whereupon he raised his head towards her, their laughter continuing.  Releasing the phone, he placed his hands upon her hips as she clasped his head in hers and, momentarily content with the contact of their lips, stood apart, the contours of their bodies in tantalising juxtaposition.

(To Be Continued)