STUMP SITTING TIME

The fall air is crisp as I start my journey up Dogwood Mountain. It is really a big hill, but I named it that because I love mountains. Here in the Ozarks area of southernwestern Missouri, we don’t have mountains like out west, just big hills. The dogwood part of its name comes from the hundreds of trees with their showy white blossoms that bring beauty to these hills in the spring.

For a moment, I listen to the soothing sounds of water as it tumbles down Dogwood Mountain Falls. I glance over my shoulder as the sun starts peeking over the hills behind me. The curtain is rising, and I am not in my seat.

My pace quickens as I head up the trail that follows the falls, then turn onto another trail that winds to the top. My leg muscles burn as I climb over rocky areas in the trail. I continue my hike.

Finally, I see it. To some, it may be just an old stump where someone cut down a tree long ago. But to me, it is like an old friend waiting at the end of a trail. I hurriedly remove my backpack, take out my thermos, and pour a cup of coffee. It is time for stump sitting once again.

From where I sit on my stump, I see a thin haze over the stream that winds through Bull Creek Valley. Smoke floats through the air from the cabins and homes that dot the valley. Crows calling to each other on a distant ridge and a fox squirrel scurrying through nearby treetops break the silence.

I know somewhere below in the fields turkeys have flown down from their roost and are feeding. A doe and her yearling have probably joined the turkeys as a buck watches them from his hiding place. The kingfisher squawks as he flies through the mist over the creek. He is fussing at a heron fishing for breakfast or a busy beaver.

The sun rises higher, and the show begins. The gray of the morning suddenly changes to a kaleidoscope of color. My eyes feast upon the bronze of the oaks, yellow of the maples, red of the dogwoods, and green of the cedars and pines. The blue sky and white of the fluffy fall clouds add to the special touch of nature’s painting.

It is too bad more folks don’t take time for stump sitting. In today’s hurried, pressured, fast-paced world, stump sitting can be an escape for a little while. Good stump sitting time comes once a year – in autumn. During an autumn day, the stump sitter can enjoy this magical time.

When stump sitting, all things of life begin to take their proper place. Big things become little, little things become big. Somehow, stump sitting helps you forget about work that needs to be done, bills that need to be paid, and other worries. They are all washed away by the cleansing action of stump sitting.

The sun is high now. Good stump sitting time is gone. I finish my coffee, put the lid on the thermos, and put it in my pack. Before I put the pack on my back, I thank God. He is the creator of it all. Then I take a deep breath and start back down the trail. After a few yards, I stop and look back at the stump. Maybe tomorrow will be good stump sitting time once again. But if not, there is always next year. My old friend will be there waiting.