The Stillness of Goodale

Columbia is at the center and is flanked by three state parks whose central purpose is recreation.  Goodale is a secret place unless you happen to live within fifteen miles of Camden.  It is so close to the capitol and yet a world apart.  The other world bubble that is Goodale is nowhere more apparent than in the bison farm one must pass on the way to the park itself.

The morning we visited was rainy and cool.  The dogwoods were just coming into bloom.  The trail was at first deserted except for us.  The park itself was at first deserted while other visitors avoided the dampness of the day.  The rain had been gentle and did not leave much mud- just stillness. We hiked the trail and our attention fell to the lush low lying ferns just off the trail in the woods.   The fronds were decorated with glistening droplets of rain.  The wispy fog that had been left by the rain and the delicate white petals of the dogwood bade us to keep quiet.  The children were even subdued.  Eventually some bikers passed our silent procession.  Hikers generally shirk at the mention of these wheeled trail companions but the mood of the park had pervaded the bikers too.  They were swift but silent and expertly maneuvered around our troop.  They smiled and waved knowing that we were sharing the quiet stillness of this place together.

I think the gentle trail must extract the stillness of all those she bears.  We saw benches along the trail directing us humans to sit and contemplate Goodale's wonders.  She had compelled us to quietness but not even Goodale with her well placed benches could command our children to seated quiet reflection.  That would have been against their nature.

We emerged from the trail into the low brightness of the morning.  We were out in the clearing facing the water that was shyly showing off her many water lilies.  The children threw off the stillness of the wood and began to come back to themselves.  They filled the clearing with laughing and shouting.  They raced from the water to the park kiosk.  They played and ran around the wooden sign.  Their youthful spirits rebelled against the stillness.

It was good to see them being playful.  It was a pleasure to hear them laugh and to behold them in the fullness of their youth spewing life and energy.  It had been good to watch these little ones still and quiet in the woods as they had been drawn in by the sparkling ferns and the delicate dogwoods.  It was good to see them drawn to nature in lieu of the white glow of unfeeling screened technology.

In that stillness in the woods, I had caught a glimpse of something fantastic.  I had been privy to a wonderful moment in the lives of my children.  I had watched their spirits grow.