Chapter 28: Wisdom at the Spring

The word coma would be a suitable choice to describe Katrina’s sleep that night. When she finally stirred and stretched, still cozy in her bed, she felt deliciously refreshed. Her phone was not, however. Poking it insistently, it never came to life, and she had no bedside clock in that big, vacant room.

Strangely, she discovered it was still dark as she looked around. She’d never had the habit of getting up before dawn, especially on a day off. Yet her sleep cycle was complete and she was ready for… something. After pulling on her least-worn change of clothes, she quietly stepped out of the bedroom.

Tentatively, she glanced at Daniel’s door, wondering if he was awake yet. It was closed, so she crept downstairs to see if he was there. He wasn’t in the kitchen, and she wasn’t exactly disappointed about it, either. However, she didn’t know how to make coffee with his machine. So… what to do?

The feeling inside her was a little uneasy, but not anxious. It was nagging, but not specific. It felt like she was forgetting something, but she couldn’t imagine what it could be. She was on vacation; there were no responsibilities here.

Since she had to wait for Daniel anyway, she wondered if there was anything outside she hadn’t explored yet. Excitedly, she remembered the spring everybody was talking about. With that thought, the feeling in her chest gave way to relief. The dewy grass dampened her toes as she made her way toward the north woods. Her wet sandals didn’t affect her eager morning mood… but her disposition changed the instant she hit the tree line.

The mist lingered around the trunks of the trees, snaking between the ferns and rhododendrons. The air was so still it felt like walking into a lonely cathedral. As she tiptoed along the path, the feeling became stronger. It was an eerie sensation; like being watched - from everywhere. But it wasn’t menacing. There was something almost sacred about it. Deliberately, she breathed and surrendered to the feeling.

By reaching out with her senses, she could smell the Earth, the fungus, and the moss. The cool fog raised goose bumps, yet it felt refreshing against her skin. Just as the mellow radiance began to rise in the East, she could see droplets of water gathering on a single oak leaf. It was subtly exquisite; she was captivated by the ambiance. Looking closely, she noticed the thick, shiny robustness of the leaf. She observed its veins, and the insect eggs that formed a series of galls underneath. Such personality. And in that tiny drop of water, she saw the reflection of everything… including herself.

By the time she reached the fork in the path and she could just see over the hilltop, each step was being carefully placed. She made no sound. She barely breathed. This turned out to be fortunate, because in a few more steps she noticed she wasn’t the only person in the forest. When she saw Tom she stopped suddenly, feeling as if she was interrupting something. In the middle of a broad clearing, he sat with his eyes closed.

Trying to make herself diminutive, she looked for a place to wait and observe, so she wouldn’t startle him. Glancing to the right of the trail, she saw a squishy pad of moss just behind a giant tree. There she stationed herself, missing all the crackly sticks and crinkly brown leaves that would give her away.

She intended to greet him as soon as he… woke up. Until then, her eyes began to wander. First to the giant rock formation behind him; it was a prominent layer of sandstone that had erupted from the ground, and the soil washed away to form this broad covey. At its tallest point it was just large enough for a person to stand under. The upper face of the rock wall was laced with a relief pattern, like Braille hieroglyphs. This strange honeycomb configuration left darkened streaks that ran down the stone’s surface. There was something different about that deposit; it clearly wasn’t soft stone like the rest.

Just beyond her focus, she knew there was something else tucked away within the cave. She couldn’t define it yet, but it seemed like a pile of rocks from that distance. On the east side of the trail there was a quaint little water garden, lined with rocks and lilies. Even from her hiding place, she could count at least four frogs scattered around its edges. That must have been the spring water… although it wasn’t quite as interesting as everyone made it sound.

Then there was Tom, still seated there, facing the rising sun, with his back to the cave. He sat completely still, as if waiting for something. Katrina didn’t know how long he would be like that, so she considered making her escape instead of disturbing him.

Except… slowly… he began to move. Just as the sun breached the horizon and half the sky was luminescent, Tom unfolded his right hand. Sweeping it out about one inch from the soil, he made an arch around him. His movements were soft enough to have been petting a bunny. Then he made some kind of downward ‘trickle’ gesture with the fingers of both hands. Starting on his left this time, they flowed clear over to his right, which happened to be the side where Katrina was crouched.

When he turned toward her, she could see that he was whispering something very quietly. Continuing his pantomime, Katrina got the impression that he must have been telling a story about something. Apparently it was a love story; he was so passionate when he began to reach, cradle, and slither his hands with each new sentence.

Slowly he unfolded his legs from beneath him and planted his feet upon the soil. With more fluidity than she probably could have displayed, Tom surged upward with his hands outstretched. For a moment he simply stood there, stretching toward the treetops. He even swayed a bit, as if in a breeze.

With more gestures she could not interpret, he embodied sincerity and reverence like she’d never known. Eventually he began reaching for the four horizons. He began with the East, longingly, as if reaching for a lover’s hand. As he turned gracefully toward the South, she shrunk behind the old tree, so she wouldn’t be caught watching. However, his eyes were closed and he never seemed to notice her there. Again he swiveled, toward the cave to the West this time, and then beckoned to the North. Although she could not hear his words, she watched him speak to each direction, with more emotion than she could comprehend.

Facing East again, he raised his hand up toward the sky. With elegant, sweeping motions, he then lightly brushed his forehead, gathered both hands at his heart, and again he reached upward. As he raised up, he opened his eyes. This confirmed there were tears moistening his cheeks.

Looking spent of energy and emotion, he collapsed to his knees and placed his forehead against the Earth. There he lay for a moment, still whispering. Finally he righted himself, giving just enough distance to bring his hand to his chest, and then caress the soil once again. His movement was as tender and gentle as if stroking a sleeping child.

Finally, he took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and looked right at Katrina.

“You can come out now, Katrina. You weren’t bothering me.”

“Oh!” Stunned and sheepish, she tried to emerge from her haven without looking like some kind of cat burglar. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“You did disturb the blue jay when you came to the edge of the woods. The grey squirrel batted its tail and chose a different tree after you slowed down. But here in the pond, the frogs were uninterested.”

“Wow.” Katrina had no idea what to say about that. Part of her assumed he may have been making up a frilly story. But that cynical theory didn’t feel like it held much water. “Really? How—”

“I listen to the voices of Nature the way some people listen to their mp3s,” he grinned. “My form of ‘entertainment’ has its roots all the way back to the beginning.”

“Oh.” Again, she was surprised with the depth of his reply, and she knew better than to discredit him this time.

“Welcome to the Eternal Spring,” he nodded. “You may take a moment to look around.”

As she approached the middle of the trail clearing, she again had that jittery feeling. Truth be told, she almost felt nervous, as if she was being scrutinized; by more than just the old man.

Obligingly, she centered her focus back on the enormous rock outcrop. Deeply tucked under the low ceiling, there was a manmade water catchment; like a wishing well. This drew her toward it, and her apprehension dissolved.

Deep within that crevasse, it was noticeably cooler and quieter than out on the trail. The wall of the basin was about three feet tall, made from more local sandstone, and the water within was completely clear. Leaning over the edge, she could see straight to the bottom, and all details of the rocks precisely.

Somewhere near the back, coming from a crack in the stone ceiling, there was a slow trickle, which stirred the surface of the water. Besides those concentric rings rippling out across the water, she would have seen a mirror image of herself.

Altogether, it was stunning. She removed herself from the cave, and came back to him.

“Beautiful.”

“Yes,” he affirmed, watching her closely.

“So… that’s pretty incredible… I’ve never seen anybody pray like that.”

“I am giving thanks.”

That was where she hit the wall of mediocrity. She’d assumed he was performing some sort of ancient ritual or ceremony, such was his adoration. Also, she wasn’t sure exactly what ‘giving thanks’ meant in this context. She knew about Thanksgiving, but that was when people prayed… and then ate. This didn’t seem to fit into that box, either.

“What’s the difference?” she wondered, dumbly.

Patiently, Tom shook his head. “I was giving thanks to the Creator. With passion. I was feeling my connection to all of nature. Giving thanks for <i>everything</i>. Because… without all this, I couldn’t exist.”

“Oh,” she whispered, looking around. “Yeah,” she frowned, trying to follow.

“Once you understand the Earth, you’ll know how to be truly thankful. To understand nature is to know all of life.”

“Oh, yeah?” Although her words came in a challenging tone, she was genuinely interested to hear his words on the subject. “That would be cool, if that sort of knowledge would help me understand the rest of life,” she commented, skeptically. Then she casually began to observe the clearing again.

Tom appeared as if he considered this for a moment, but he ultimately shook his head.

“Not knowledge. Knowledge is just words and facts; there’s no soul to it. Like the information that spring, summer, autumn, and winter, are just seasons. Seasons are just something that happen <i>out there</i>,” he stabbed the air viciously with both pointed fingers. “But *experience</i> gives you the wisdom that birth occurs in the spring…” Tom extended a loving hand toward the East. “Growth occurs in summer…” He swiveled on his axis to face South now. “In the autumn we prepare for what is to come,” he gestured West, toward the rock face. “Wisdom says: No matter how powerful, everything succumbs to the laws of nature.” With that, he turned northward. “Eventually winter will prevail, and there is beauty there, as well. Purity.”

Katrina stared at him, her mouth resembling the low, open cave behind her.

Very tenderly, he continued, “Knowledge tells you that you will likely fall in love someday. But <i>experience</i> gives you the wisdom of what love is.”

Katrina’s mouth snapped shut, and her eyebrows raised. That part she could understand.

“How can you be truly thankful for something when you’ve had only a superficial knowledge of it? Life… Love… Earth… even God… They are deserving of your <i>experience</i>.”

“Yeah, okay,” she nodded, trying to wrap her brain around it. “Experience,” she repeated.

Tom gazed at her, assessing her level of understanding. He sensed that she was absorbing enough that it would eventually take root. Therefore, he casually turned, and ventured toward that wishing well. Subsequently, he bent and retrieved two large glass jugs, each with an intricate jute carrier woven around them.

After removing this soft basket casing, he delicately submerged the mouth of each bottle under the surface of the cold water. Like a child, he watched the ripples on the surface of the pool. They corresponded with the shape of the bottle’s sides, racing to the edges. Upon reaching their limits they would bounce back, and interact with the new rings being thrown from his disturbance. Then he would play with the surface tension, creating a pattern of flowing peaks as it rapidly poured into the entrance of the container. When he was done, he raised a wet hand to his mouth, and moistened his lips.

After watching all this with fascination, Katrina suddenly realized it was her turn to speak again.

“Well, I’d love to… understand life, like you were saying,” she grinned, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “And learn how to give thanks like that,” she added, trying not to sound self-centered. “That was beautiful.”

“There’s a dance too,” he said, casually. “It can be done during a ceremony, with drumming. It’s breathtaking.”

“Cool,” she grinned. “Could you teach me that?”

“Perhaps,” he shrugged. “Maybe tomorrow.”

For a moment, she imagined herself dancing around a fire, Native American style. When she thought about it, it was the drums that really captured her attention. She could actually hear the <i>boom-boom, boom-boom</i> cadence in her head, like that of a beating heart.

“So… is that water clean enough to drink?”

As he grabbed both jugs by their handles and started toward the lodge, he replied, “Yes. This is where I get all my drinking water. For everything else I just go to the river. It runs near to my home.”

“Oh. Where do you live?” she frowned.

“Just beyond the pond. You were near my home yesterday on your way to the garden.”

Katrina suddenly felt curiosity erupt within her as she tried to imagine his house. “Is that where you’re going now?”

“Soon. Right now we’re going to the lodge. Daniel is looking for you.”

“Oh. Really?” Glancing up, Katrina searched for the end of the trees, and the building beyond. They were well within the woods there, over a little hillock, and about 100 yards away from the house. There was no way he could have known what Daniel was doing just then. However, Katrina decided to keep that skepticism to herself.

When they arrived, though, the screen door flew open and Daniel’s broad smile greeted them.

“Morning, Grandfather. Katrina,” he grinned. “I was wondering where you’d gone. So… you must’ve found the spring. What’d you think?”