On any decent summer afternoon there’s a good chance you’ll catch me just sitting still and watching.
Our porch has a pretty good view of Elk Lake across the street. There’s an ongoing conversation as to which of our local lakes is the most scenic and I’ll nominate Elk every time. But it’s not the part of the lake that can be seen that I find myself thinking about most of the time. It’s what lies beneath the surface that captures my interest.
Things like what kinds of fish are in there, of course, and I’m always curious about the temperature. Remembering that the lake surface was froze just a couple of months ago, I congratulated my neighbor for taking his first swim of the season while the calendar still read “May.” From its temperature to its contents, what makes up this gorgeous body of water will never not captivate me.
On other decent summer afternoons there’s a chance you’ll catch me walking through our back yard. My wife was asked to have her garden on this years Elk Rapids Garden Club tour so we’ve been putting in extra time making it look as good as possible for the event. My contribution is minimal but it’s not nothing which is why I’m out there more and more. But like the lake I see from the porch, much of what fascinates me about the yard is what’s in it and what’s below it. All these plants with their multiple names; some Latin, some Native, some English.
And the wildlife that flies, hops and scurries. From the squirrels and rabbits that are always there to the migrating birds that we watch morph from sex-crazed flying fools to responsible bug gathering family birds, it’s free entertainment.
The soil that supports all this is what I’m really taken by. Half our backyard is a “meadow;” more of a fenced field really. Supporting a variety of trees, bushes, weeds, and tons of wild asparagus it never lets me down.
With the contents of Elk Lake and the quality of the soil in my what locals call “Marcy’s Meadow” (“Ford Field” had been taken) in mind, I make this sudden veer.
I read recently that from the early dawn of civilization to the year 2003, humanity produced “x” amount of recorded information. Since then, and getting exponentially faster, we produce about the same amount of content every two days. That’s crazy, but it explains why people exhaust themselves trying not to miss out on anything. The scattershot breaking news, podcasts, reels, and whatever else kind of “content” is created is mind numbing. Over consumption and the stresses that may come from that is a real problem for many.
I call it “scattershot” because it comes at us from every direction where what I learn about the lake and the land is always from the bottom up. Reliably cyclical, consistently predictable, and so comfortably consumable, our natural resources once again outpace that which comes to us artificially.
This summer, and in seasons beyond, make things as simple as possible, but not any simpler. With so much new data, practically an entire new set of World Book Encyclopedias being created every day, we must create a new way of cutting through the nonsense that comes with consuming too much.
Ironically, there is often nothing more complex than simplicity. Like the nature that unfolds outside our homes, so much more is there than meets the eye.
The secret then is to just grab another cup of coffee, find a comfortable patio chair, and sit still and just watch it happen.