Heeding Nature’s Calls To Love Her: My Nature’s Guy Manifesto

Nature’s calls resonate all around me. Whether I’m home on the banks of the West Chickamauga Creek in Northwest Georgia, at my Dad’s on Lake Winneconne, Wisconsin, or visiting my children, friends and relatives in Arizona, Utah, Lake Tahoe area or the Pacific Northwest, Nature’s calls reach out to me, grab me and hold me tight. The other morning, inspired, I got up and wrote a creative blog on what it means to me to heed Nature’s calls.

It was only going to be a creative piece, but after my wife read it, she said: “This is who you are. Heeding Nature’s calls — and helping others to do so — is what you’re about. You need to post this on your Nature’s Guys blog.” So, here it is. I expect it will change, grow and adapt, as my understanding of Nature’s calls — and what they mean — grows and adapts.

Heeding Nature’s Calls To Love Her

All around are Nature’s calls to me,
Imploring to hear, feel, smell, taste, sense and see;
To quaff great gulps of her beauty.
To come and walk and sit and connect my soul,
and with joy surrounding me, make myself whole.
–Nature’s Call, David Kuhns

I feel Nature’s Call as she reaches out to me like an impassioned lover, begging me to enjoy her gentle touch and caress, the sweet fragrance of her scents, the beauty of her woods, lakes, streams, rivers, marshes, fields, her flowers, her flora and fauna, the cacophony of sounds emanating deep from within her soul like a symphony wrapping me up and taking me higher.

For as long as I can remember, I have had examples and mentors to help me recognize and answer Nature’s calls. One of my earliest memories is sitting on the banks of a stream in the high Uintah Mountains of northeastern Utah, watching my father fly fish amidst the mountain peaks and quaking aspen groves. I recall struggling, as a four-year-old, to cross a tiny rivulet, and seeing a brightly colored brook trout swim upstream under my feet. 

Later, my Grandmother Bertha and Aunt Mary provided the example. When I stayed with Grandma in her lakeside cottage in central Wisconsin, she taught me well. No matter what she was doing, no matter how busy she was, if she heard sounds of the harbinger birds of spring, the wild Canada geese flying, or if she got a call from my aunt, or from her niece Fern, “the geese are flying,” she would put down whatever she was doing, quickly throw on a coat, and head out for a walk in the crisp spring or autumn air, looking heavenward, listening for the sounds of geese by the thousands, gleefully pointing them out as they flew overhead in their familiar V formation.

Nature's call sometimes means walking on Lake Winneconne to watch the sunset.

Even in the last week of her life, having suffered a minor stroke a few days earlier, and mere hours before the massive stroke that put her into a coma from which she would never awake, she walked, with my sister, down the path from my folks’ home to their dock on Lake Winneconne. There, she faced west, as she had thousands of times before, to watch one final sunset. With her brain functioning as it never had before, struggling, and with her mouth hardly able to form the words, she looked at the sky resplendent in its painted glory and said simply, but truthfully, “Beautiful.”

Led by examples like that, from men and women who showed me and came with me on hundreds of canoeing, sailing and boating trips into the sunrise or the sunset, loudly singing and proclaiming “Oh What a Beautiful Morning,” people who traipsed with me over fields and marshes and through Woods of Wisconsin, is it any wonder I now — and still — heed Nature’s call?

Who would wonder why, even when alone, I’ve set out across glistening snow-covered fields in sub-zero weather, watching the full moon sparkle on white crystals? That I woke up at 2 in the morning in Utah’s canyonlands and couldn’t sleep as I watched Orion’s Belt set beneath the Colorado River canyon rim? Or that I paused on a long, painful backpack hike out of the depth of the Grand Canyon to watch the full moon set in the pre-dawn hours over the painted south rim on the Kaibab Trail? Or that now I lean with my back against a prehistoric old woman of the woods oak tree, or sit on the banks of the West Chickamauga Creek above a gurgling and laughing rapids created by a Native American tribe who built their fishing weir out of the limestone rocks found on the land? Or that I wander seemingly aimlessly, but focus on the small colorful flashes of movement and the music of dozens of birds as my wife gleefully captures their images with her camera? As I teach her, in new ways, as others taught me, to become Creation Girl, to heed God’s messages broadcast in Nature, to answer Nature’s call?

How John Muir and Others Felt as They Heeded Nature’s Calls

I’m learning that I feel like John Muir said he felt, as I stand deep in Nature, swaying with swelling breast full of gratitude and fire, or like Walt Whitman as I turn my head towards the sky and pull out of the depths of my joy-filled soul that barbaric Yawp to thank the sun and the trees and the Creator and Nature for the beauty of the day and everything that I saw and heard and felt in it.

It was Muir who gave the example of heeding Nature’s call, showing and explaining to people how to love the land and nature. It was Henry David Thoreau and Aldo Leopold who formed my earliest philosophical impressions and love of being in nature, who helped me recognize that what I was feeling as a young man with the joy in my soul was not unusual, and that I was not alone in it.

Standing On Holy Ground

Really, examining all of history, many of the great philosophers, scientists, and religious people gave the example of going out into nature because, as others have said, our souls are connected with Nature’s calls. We are interwoven with the earth, and we seek to connect with it, even down to the taking off of our shoes on the beach or in the dirt. In our souls, we understand that we must remove the shoes from our feet, for the ground upon which we walk is Holy Ground.

Even God, as He created the earth, at the end of each day, stood back and said: “It is good.”

Hearing Nature’s Calls, Not Shrieks, Bring Peace and Action

Compare Nature’s calls, those peaceful, joyful feelings, that gratitude and love, with the shrieks and cries of politicians and activists telling us: “How dare you!” Warning us if we don’t change, the earth will be destroyed in 10, 20, or 30 years. And that it’s the governments’ and big businesses’ responsibility to make that change.

What Muir and Thoreau and Leopold and Whitman and others understood was that change and protection of the environment and the earth will not come because of somebody screaming and yelling and threatening. Change will not happen by insulting or belittling or shaming. Fundamental and permanent change will come from Love. That change will come when every person connects in his or her own way with Nature, not because of some government or organizational edict, but when they feel Nature’s call, personally, to them, when they sense deep within themselves what my father and grandmother and aunt and uncle and I and my siblings have all felt, that passionate love for Nature, for Earth.

Even Teddy Roosevelt, who grew and expanded the National Park System and started the U.S. Forest Service, did so after connecting with the land, after hearing Nature’s calls. Accompanied by Muir, he set out on horseback through the Yosemite area. He was so moved by nature, and by the description that others had written about the land’s beauty, he came back to the halls of power in Washington, DC and created Yosemite National Park, as well as other national parks, dozens of national forests, monuments, and many other wildlife and nature preserves. But it wasn’t because someone threatened him. It wasn’t because someone said: “You have to do this or you’ll destroy Nature.” It was because he stood there in the midst of it and felt and heard and sensed Nature’s call.

Humans Don’t Usually Use Nature’s Calls

There is an old saying that you can attract many more bees (and butterflies and hummingbirds!) with honey than with vinegar. In the modern era, this is the message we have forgotten. We shriek loudly and throw our hands in the air in anguish, sobbing huge crocodile tears about climate change and the rape and pillage of the environment. We beat our chests and bemoan the demise of our beloved Earth. And we point fingers at corporations and governments and big business, and scream that “they” are to blame. But when have you ever seen anyone who is trying to make these changes, admonish people to get out into the woods or into nature, to follow the admonition of Muir who said: “And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my Soul!”?

Instead these politicians and activists come by plane and car and train, walking on paved streets and sidewalks through huge guarded doors into giant steel and glass temples of government and power. They pound their fists on steel podiums in sterile rooms with comfortable chairs and processed air and no windows, telling all those who will listen, either in person or staring at some plastic and glass electronic screen, that we must save Nature, but that others must do it.

As the cartoon character Pogo famously said in the 1970s: “We have met the enemy, and he is us.

Listen To Nature’s Calls, Then Change

Where is Nature in all of this? Nature’s call resounds not loudly from microphones on steel podiums, or from angry protests on paved streets with shrill words shouted through megaphones. It is heard in the still whisper of the morning breeze, or the lapping of the waves on a mossy shore at sunset, in the thousands of voices of our fellow creatures, in the flickering of the lightning bugs dancing across a misty patch of wildflowers. Nature’s call-to-action is activated when we feel, hear, smell, taste, sense and enjoy her, in all her beautiful forms, when we feel connected to her in love and gratitude.

This Nature’s call now becomes my soul call, the way I see to approach helping and saving the Earth. My answering Nature’s call is to love her, and to help others hear and feel and know and love her. How can you love something that you do not know? Can you love when someone yells at you from a stage of nations and says? “How dare you!”? Can you love if somebody throws out what they proclaim to be scientific fact in some Green New Deal? Will you love when someone threatens you and all humankind with eminent destruction? Will YOU answer Nature’s call when people tell you it’s the government’s or big business’s or corporation’s problems?

Or will you love and share that love, as my Grandma did, if someone simply opens a door in a humble cottage to the outdoors, in answer to the Nature’s call they hear? When they gently invite you: “Come, see. Come here and hear. Come, sense. Come, smell. Come, feel.”

“Come, love.”

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Posted in Eco-Activism, Nature Observation, Practical Environmentalism.

David Kuhns

Dave Kuhns is originally a quasi-city boy from suburban Milwaukee, but he spent weekends and summers in nature on Lake Winneconne in central Wisconsin. After raising his kids in a Seattle suburb, he moved to a small town in central Utah. He figured he’d buy some rural property there, or back in the Badger State.

Then he fell in love. Through a series of amazing events, he bought a rural property (a few acres) across the creek from the Chickamauga National Military Park (Civil War battlefield). There, he and his new wife are putting into reality the conservation, gardening and land management practices he learned from his grandmother, his forest ranger Dad, his little brother, and his own surburban experience.