forest as inspiration

*Gnarly branches of black locust trees overhang a trail in Trent Forest, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

It was a late October morning and I had chosen a less walked trail in the Trent Forest. It was a cloudy day that promised rain from the northeast with dark clouds; but the sun still shone in the southeastern sky through a thin screen, giving everything a bright and soft ethereal quality.

*Deeply furrowed trunk of black locust on trail through black locust grove, Trent Forest, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

The main walk went first along a lowland of marshy swamp forest, mostly cedars and poplars. The less travelled trail veered up a steep incline and eventually tapered to another drier mini-ecosystem. I felt like I’d entered an enchanted grove with tall and crooked black locust trees, some very thick (a metre or so in diameter) and no doubt quite old. Vines of creepers tangled down from gnarly branches, forming intriguing webs of colour and texture. I adore the bark of the Black Locust tree; It is deeply furrowed and resembles entwined rope. When I touched the craggy light bark of a large tree, I felt its corky lightness. The bark was covered in small moss patches and tiny foliose and crustose lichen in shades of pale green and deep yellow. An entire ecosystem.

*Old black locust tree showing rope-like bark covered in lichen, Trent Forest, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

Not another soul came by during the time I was there in the black forest grove. In fact, I didn’t encounter anyone on my entire walk in the forest. It was so quiet in the black locust grove. Except for some bird calling—possibly a woodpecker—and the soft trill of several little songbirds, chickadees and warblers, my constant companions.

*Trail through black locust grove, Trent Forest, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

I felt a quiet calm descent on me like a soft blanket and I didn’t want to leave. But I was keenly aware of the coming storm as the dark clouds billowed closer in gusts of fresh wind and a few raindrops started to spatter down on me. Yet I lingered.

*Gnarly branches of black Locust tree arc over the trail, Trent Forest, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

I got home just as the dark clouds opened to a hard rainfall. The rain turned to hail. it came down in thick sheets, bouncing hard on the pavement. By then, I was glad to be indoors with my cup of hot tea.

*Upland trail through black locust grove, Trent Forest, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

*Marcescent oak leaves tremble in the cold wind of November, Petroglyph Park, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

I parked my car by the closed gate and walked inside along the road. The park was closed but not for me, I thought. The walk through this magnificent pine forest with its fresh pungent aromas of coming winter, invigorated me with thoughts of hope and wonder. I felt at home in this unviolated forest. It felt natural and I realized that I was desperately seeking “natural”…

*Oak leaves blaze in the grey-green hemlock-pine forest, Petroglyph Park, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

I live close to a riparian forest and a large river. But there is little natural about it. Despite supporting an abundance of wildlife (e.g., squirrels, chipmunks, muskrat, skunk, groundhog, mink, ermine, voles, and red fox), the forest is disturbed and infested with invasive species. When I walk through this forest, the sounds of traffic are never far away, and I yearn for the sounds and smells of Nature inviolate.

*Small trail through pine and aspen to the meromictic lake in Petroglyph Park, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Petroglyph Park lies in the Kawartha Region of Ontario and is an hour’s drive north of where I live. Here, the sounds of Nature prevail: the wind raking through pines, the shrill haunting cry of a bluejay or aggressive chittering of a red squirrel. Nothing else. It was gloriously silent; except for the sound of my boots crunching along the trail or when I scared up a deer that scampered with the rush and rattle of leaves through the anonymity of the brush into a deep silence.

*Road through tall red pine forest, Petroglyph Park, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

It was a crisp and fresh November day. I’d packed a lunch and my camera and set off down the road and along various trails to explore the park, not worried about getting lost.

*Forest fades from single oak tree into a fog of grey-green pine and hemlock, Petroglyph Park (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

And I did get wonderfully lost, particularly when I ventured off the main trail, seeking adventure. I didn’t mind being lost; when you lose yourself you find another part of you through adventure…

*Marcescent beech and oak trees add bronze colour to the grey-green of the pine forest, Petroglyph Park, ON (Photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

It’s early winter, when the chill winds carve through mixed forests in a restless howl, snatching leaves of deciduous trees and sending them flying. But in this primeval ancient forest of evergreens, the few deciduous trees mimic their conifer cousins by stubbornly clutching their leaves. In winter, the leaves of oak and beech trees cling to their branches, marcescent. To the silver greens of pine and hemlock, they add flames of copper and gold

*Red pine trees tower over a deer trail near the lake, Petroglyph Park, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

I found myself walking on the spongy ground, a carpet of leaves, needles and debris, not far from Gilford Lake, among a tall stand of red pines, whose thick canopy created a green ceiling overhead. Breathing in the strong scent of pine and loam, I set up my camera and tripod to capture the mood of a natural path through the forest. I’d just set up the camera, hand poised on the shutter, when a deer wandered in front of me—just three metres away! It saw me and stopped mid-step. We stared at one another in a halting pause, a moment made eternity. Then the deer leapt gracefully away, disappearing within seconds into the dark forest and leaving me in the silence of rapture. I felt laughter tease up my throat; I hadn’t taken a picture.

*Road winds through the mixed forest in Petroglyph Park, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

*Winding road through mixed forest in Petroglyph Park, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

My walk through this natural forest is both thrilling and comforting, uplifting and restful. I am living outside myself, sensing the textures, sounds and tastes of the forest—in sublime discovery. It is here, where the sounds and smells of the natural world abide, without regard to me, that I feel most at home.

I am simply being…

Nina Munteanu Writing Coach

An Autumn Walk in an Ontario Forest

An Early Winter Walk in the Forest