Among the ancient trees

I am sitting on my favorite bench, underneath live oaks at the state park, enjoying a cool breeze and thinking about my hike last Saturday at Congaree National Park near Columbia.

As I left Charleston on a beautiful and mild morning, I could not wait to get on the first open stretch of country road. The traffic and ceaseless energy and movement in the city oppress me somtimes, and it was with great relief that after a half hour's drive I was at last traveling along the Old Charleston Highway (U.S. 176) toward Columbia. Once off that road, I passed the towns of Eutawville, Santee and Elloree. A mile or so outside Elloree, I turned right on state route 267, and knew I was, for certain, way out in the country. I love the feeling of open space, farms, fields and woods.

Thirty minutes later I was turning onto Old Bluff Road, not far from the town of Gadsden, toward the visitor center and trails of the national park. The main trail begins next to a huge American beech tree, which, just this past December when I was there, was still arrayed in its golden yellow Autumn colors.

Entering and retreating into the silence of this majestic old-growth bottomland swamp forest, I soon was looking up to the tops of loblolly pines 160 tall, some of the highest in the country. Tall cypress, tupelo and a variety of oaks and other hardwoods, some state and national champion trees, made me pause in wonder and gratitude. I never cease to be astounded by the ethereal stillness and beauty of this wilderness, 30,000 acres of it along the muddy Congaree River, formed by the confluence of the Broad and Saluda rivers at Columbia.

I passed a lot of people on that perfect late winter/early spring day -- groups of friends, couples, families with children -- all absorbed in the enchantment of the place. Some I greeted, but most just seemed to be absorbed in their moments in the park, not looking at me as I passed them or sat on a bench, gazing up into silhouetted winter trees with a lowering sun lightiing up the forest in back of them. It didn't bother me, this passage of strangers I will never see again, but in a sense it did make me more aware that I was one of the only lone pilgrims in what to me is a sacred natural place. I felt a calm and peace that allowed me to savor this aloneness, not feeling lonely but feeling at one with the elements -- the tall trees, the wind, the water filled cypress sloughs with their shadows. Time stands still in this great park. One enters and leaves with reverence.

Written Feb. 27, 2007

Congaree National Park Web Site