By Tim King

Special to the Sentry

It occurred to me this weekend that summer is coming to an end. While this is not earth shattering news to anyone with a calendar, it always seems to somehow catch me off guard. 

This year, what did it for me was the sight of browning grass along the highway. A few short weeks ago the grass was lush and green and wildflowers were in bloom everywhere I looked.

Now, the brown stalks of grass, coupled with the sight of spent lupines and wild daisies along the roadways, mark the beginning of the end of summer for me. 

Thinking about that and remembering how cold and miserable we were a few months ago, I took stock on the summer so far and when I did, a favorite quote came to mind.

“Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That’s why we call it the present.” These words came from Babatunde Olatunji, a Nigerian drummer, educator, social activist and recording artist.

Every year, after the Fourth of July, the slippery slope toward autumn seems to speed by just a little faster for me. And just like that, summer is over. 

Again, this is nothing new. For us here in the northeast, it happens every year. 

Seasons change and bring with them new challenges and opportunities. Accepting that change is always occurring and then make the best of it is what’s important.

On a recent hike through Gulf Hagas, in the northwestern part of Maine, I was contemplating the seasons, trying to be “in the moment” and thinking about the impressions we leave behind on the things around us, literally.

I was sitting alongside the aptly named Pleasant River, watching water cascading through Screw Auger Falls, when I dipped my hand into the icy water and placed it on a nearby, sun drenched rock. 

Not surprisingly, the imprint the water left behind on the rock was that of my hand. 

Almost immediately, however; the warmth of the sun began to evaporate it. Within 10 seconds the imprint had disappeared completely. Seems I was (unknowingly) doing a pretty good job at following the “leave no trace behind” edict of responsible hiking.

There I was, in the moment, and then within a very short period of time, all traces of me being there, on that rock, in that river, at that time, were gone. Evaporated into thin air.

This year more than most, many of us seem to be concerned about the future. As a result, I fear we are missing the opportunity to enjoy today. 

Media reports of fuel oil prices rising even higher this winter have many of us scrambling to find wood for our stoves or insulation for our attics. No time to swim in the lake, there’s wood to split and stack!

I would like to say that I was shocked the other day when I walked into a local drugstore to find the entire summer section on clearance while the other side of the aisle was filled with decorations of autumn colored leaves and pumpkins. Or, when I received a “Back to School” flyer in the Sunday paper…exactly three days after my son’s last day of school! 

Sadly, this type of stuff has been going on for years now. 

But I digress – back to the river.

After witnessing that any trace of my riverside visit had been almost instantly wiped away, I wondered if our afternoon hike had had any effect on the landscape at all.

After all, if we’re not able to leave our mark on something, why not just stay home and sit on the couch? Right?

Turns out I discovered something else on the trail. 

While it’s true that no single hand (or boot) leaves much behind - many boots, over time, will eventually show wear on even the hardest surfaces. Think of the worn granite steps of an old church, school or town hall.

In fact, the very trail we were exploring that day was the result of many hands first clearing the way…followed by even more exploring it every day since. 

A closer look at most trails will reveal that some surfaces are noticeably shiny or worn to a different color by the countless boots of hikers following the same route. 

The trick to hiking is being able to see these clues and then using them as guides for a safe trip through the forest, mountain or valley. 

Like my handprint on the stone, I’m sure that most of the individual marks caused by other hikers disappeared rather quickly too. Still, there is no denying the impact that many thousands of these invisible impressions will actually leave behind.

Olatunji said that the present is a gift, not only just for us, but for all that follow. Likewise, the choices we make often depend on our awareness of the clues others have left behind.

As I said before, this “what’s next” fixation is nothing new. 

However, I find it ironic that it seems to be leading us full circle and back to the beginning - working at home, biking to the market, eating food grown locally and heating our homes with wood.

To me, it seems the one positive effect of rising prices is that it’s forcing people to make some hard choices and look at what’s real and what’s important – and that, my friends is a gift in itself.

Tim King is a freelance nature writer who sees the forest and the trees from his home in Scarborough. He can be reached at - sylvan.sauntering@gmail.com.