Laurel shut her laptop and gave a deep sigh.
Her eyes were stinging and her neck pinched from hunching over for too long.
She felt as though she'd been working non-stop lately,
And even on her days off she still tried to find something to do to stay busy.
Unfortunately,
That usually involved scrolling mindlessly on TV or social media.
She knew she had free time,
But had gotten into the habit of wasting it.
No,
She needed some time away from everything.
A proper break.
One that didn't occupy half her brain,
While the other half wondered how many likes she'd got on her last Instagram post,
Or whether there were any work emails to reply to.
It's often said that being with nature calms the mind and soothes the soul.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd been somewhere natural where she'd really paid attention to her surroundings.
She'd been on little day trips every now and again,
But had usually been too busy snapping shots of a perfect tree or a bird on a branch to post in her stories.
Laurel was burned out and a bit frazzled,
To be honest.
She resolved to do something,
On purpose,
That took her away from her typical,
Mundane,
Technology-filled day-to-day life.
She loved everything technology allowed her to do.
She was grateful for video calls and video games and convenience,
But also admitted it's okay to be away from some of those things too.
The usual advice in articles and blogs was to go for a quick walk in nature.
That was all well and good,
But she knew before long that she'd find herself back on her phone.
No,
She wanted a real reason to get outdoors.
To feel the wind and sunshine.
To learn something new,
Perhaps.
So,
She grabbed her rucksack,
Purse and a thick woolly jacket and set off to the library.
Yes,
Even her research for ideas was going to be carried out the old-fashioned way.
She thought about googling for ideas,
But for one thing,
She loved the library,
And two,
She could do without being distracted yet again by the internet.
At least for a little while.
The path to the library was through the quaint little village where she lived,
Along a cobbled path,
Past the squat cottages nestled behind crawling ivy,
Along the little winding roads.
The walk wouldn't take her long,
And it was a pleasant sunny day.
She caught the gentle sing-song of birds on the breeze and the scent of blossom along with it.
Rounding a large corner near the village hall,
She clocked the library building.
It wasn't one of those concrete,
Utilitarian council monoliths,
But beautifully old red brickwork with stunning little stonework details.
Although libraries are more about what's on the inside,
She was grateful that it coordinated with the picturesque surroundings.
She strode up the steps outside and entered the foyer,
Relishing the contrast of the fresh outdoors with its bright afternoon sun and cool breeze,
Compared to the hushed tones and dim light of the library.
It wasn't busy today.
As she walked through,
She noted just a few people meandering the maze of bookshelves filled with novels,
Comics and encyclopedias.
Laurel had some idea of what she wanted to look for,
But kept an open mind.
She started towards the nature and recreation sections.
Brushing her hair out of her face as she glanced up at the Dewey Decimal signs to see if she was going in the right direction.
Arts,
Painting,
Music.
She found books of all sizes,
From dinky pamphlets to large leather-bound volumes.
The welcoming,
Roasted scent of coffee wafted through the air.
This section of the library was close to the in-house café.
The clinking of teaspoons,
Cups and saucers accompanied her search for the right read.
After a few minutes,
Taking a little longer from imagining sipping on her own cup of hot coffee,
She spotted titles that seemed to be closer to what she wanted.
Foraging books,
Camping guides and things to do outdoors.
She browsed the shelves hoping something stuck out to her.
She ran her fingers across the spines of the books which helped her decipher the titles a little easier and came across something which looked a little out of place.
Now,
Library books are usually protected with a plastic cover.
But,
She'd spotted a faded,
Worn hardback with no protective sleeve.
Just its bare fabric binding.
In font the colour of dark chocolate,
She read,
On the Trail,
An outdoor book for girls.
Pulling it out from the shelf and running her hand across the woven cover,
She observed an illustration of women blazing a trail through woodland.
It struck Laurel as a bit odd.
It didn't look like a library book but rather like someone had left it there on the shelf.
It was in the correct section and did have the little list of dates stamped with ink on the inside cover.
She felt drawn to this book probably out of curiosity and partly novelty too,
For seeing such an old book in among the modern titles.
She spied a free comfortable armchair at the end of a row of shelves.
So,
Gave in,
Bought herself a cup of hot milky coffee and took up the chair.
Popping her bag on the ground next to her and her cup on the coffee table.
Opening the front cover and leafing through,
It read,
Copyright 1915,
By Charles Scribner's Sons,
Published June 1915.
So it really was very old,
And American it would seem.
Odd to find an American camping guide in a little village library in the UK,
But the black and white photograph of women in the outdoors,
Enjoying building an overnight camp,
Drew her in further.
Above it was the message,
To all girls who love the life of the open,
We dedicate this book.
With a sip of her coffee,
Laurel began to read.
Presentation The joyous,
Exhilarating call of the wilderness and the forest camp is surely and steadily penetrating through the barriers of brick,
Stone and concrete,
Through the more or less artificial life of town and city,
And the American girl is listening eagerly.
It is awakening in her longings for free,
Wholesome and adventurous outdoor life,
For the innocent delights of nature-loving Thoreau and bird-loving Burroughs.
Sturdy,
Independent,
Self-reliant,
She is now demanding outdoor books that are genuine and filled with practical information.
Books that tell how to do worthwhile things,
That teach real woodcraft and are not adapted to the girl,
Supposed to be afraid of a caterpillar or to shudder at sight of a harmless snake.
In answer to the demand,
On the Trail has been written.
The author's deep desire is to help girls respond to this new,
Insistent call by pointing out to them the open trail.
It is their hope and wish that their girl readers may seek the charm of the wild and may find the same happiness in their life of the open that the American boy has enjoyed.
To forward this object,
The why and how,
The where and when of things of camp and trail have been embodied in this book.
Thanks are due to Edward Cave,
President and editor of Recreation,
For kindly allowing the use of some of his wildlife photographs.
Lena Beard,
Adelia Bellbeard.
Laurel read on,
Intrigued.
She leafed through to the first chapter and skipped a couple of pages.
When you strike the trail.
For any journey,
By rail or by boat,
One has a general idea of the direction to be taken,
The character of the land or water to be crossed,
And of what one will find at the end.
So it should be in striking the trail.
Learn all you can about the path you are to follow,
Whether it is plain or obscure,
Wet or dry,
Where it leads and its length,
Measured more by time than actual miles.
A smooth,
Even trail of five miles will not consume the time and strength that must be expended upon a trail of half that length,
Which leads over uneven ground,
Varied by bogs and obstructed by rocks and fallen trees,
Or a trail that is all uphill climbing.
If you are a novice and accustomed to walking only over smooth and level ground,
You must allow more time for covering the distance than an experienced person would require,
And must count upon the expenditure of more strength,
Because your feet are not trained to the wilderness paths with their pitfalls and traps for the unwary,
And every nerve and muscle will be strained to secure a safe foothold amid the tangled roots,
On the slippery,
Moss-covered logs,
Over precipitous rocks that lie in your path.
It will take time to pick your way over boggy places,
Where the water oozes up through the thin,
Loamy soil as through a sponge.
An experience alone will teach you which hummock of grass or moss will make a safe stepping place,
And will not sink beneath your weight and soak your feet with hidden water.
Do not scorn to learn all you can about the trail you are to take,
Although your questions may call forth superior smiles.
It is not that you hesitate to encounter difficulties,
But that you may prepare for them.
In unknown regions,
Take a responsible guide with you.
Unless the trail is short,
Easily followed,
And a frequented one,
Do not go alone through lonely places,
And,
Being on the trail,
Keep it and try no explorations of your own,
At least not until you are quite familiar with the country and the ways of the wild.
Taking a pause to drink another few gulps of coffee,
Laurel marvelled at how poetic this guide came across to her.
The authors clearly had so much passion for the outdoors,
And it was a bit amusing to her to read it written in such an old-fashioned style.
She flicked through a few more sections,
Stopping to enjoy the illustrations and photographs.
She skipped past felling trees and chopping logs.
She didn't consider herself quite ready for that sort of responsibility,
And plus,
She was sure it was illegal to start chopping trees down willy-nilly.
An important phase of woodcraft is the ability to find your way in the wilderness by means of natural signs as well as the compass.
If,
However,
You do not know at what point of the compass from you the camp lies,
The signs can be of no avail.
Having this knowledge,
The signs will be invaluable.
Get your bearings before leaving camp.
Do not depend upon any member of the party,
But know for yourself.
If you have a map giving the topography of land surrounding the camping grounds,
Consult it.
Burn into your memory the direction from camp of outlying landmarks,
Those near and those as far off as you can see in all directions.
The morning you leave camp,
Ascertain the direction of the wind and notice particularly the sun and the shadows.
If it is early morning,
Face the sun and you will be looking towards the east.
Stretch out both arms at your sides and point with your index fingers.
Your right finger will point to the south,
Your left to the north,
And your back will be towards the west.
What landmarks do you see east of the camp?
South?
North?
West?
And from what point of the compass does the wind blow?
If it comes from the west and you trail eastward,
The wind will strike your back going away from camp and should strike your face returning,
Provided its direction does not change.
Again,
If you go east,
Your camp will lie west of you,
And your homeward path must be westward.
Consult your compass and know exactly which direction you take when leaving camp,
And blaze your trail as you go,
Looking backward frequently to see how landmarks should appear as you face them returning.
With all these friends to guide you.
First,
The map.
Second,
Sun.
Third,
Shadows.
Fourth,
Wind.
Fifth,
Compass.
Sixth,
Your bent twig blazing.
There will be little,
If any,
Danger of being lost.
But you must constantly keep on the alert and refer frequently to these guides,
Especially when deflecting from the course first taken after leaving camp.
At every turning,
Stop and take your bearings anew.
These signs are for daylight.
At night,
The north star will be your guide.
Sunlight and shadow.
Bearing in mind that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west,
It will be comparatively easy to keep your right course by consulting the sun.
A fair idea may also be gained of the time of day by the length of the shadows.
If you remember that shadows are long in the morning and continue to grow shorter until midday,
When they again begin to lengthen,
Growing longer and longer until night.
To find the direction of the sun on a cloudy day,
Hold a flat splinter or your knife blade vertically so that it is absolutely straight up and down.
Place the point of the blade on your thumbnail,
Watch case or other glossy surface.
Then turn the knife or splinter around until the full shadow of the flat of blade or splinter falls on the bright surface,
Telling the location of the sun.
An open spot where the sun can cast a clear shadow and an hour where the sun is not immediately overhead will give best results.
Wind.
The wind generally blows in the same direction all day.
And if you learn to understand its ways,
The wind will help keep the right trail.
Make a practice of testing the direction of the wind every morning.
Notice the leaves on bush and tree,
In what direction they move.
Place a few bits of paper on your open hand and watch in which way the wind carries them.
If there is no paper,
Try the test with dry leaves,
Grass or anything light and easily carried by the breeze.
Smoke will also show the direction of the wind.
When the wind is very faint,
Put your finger in your mouth,
Wet it on all sides and hold it up.
The side on which the wind blows will feel cool and tell from what quarter the wind comes.
If on the east side of your finger,
The wind blows from the east and so on.
Keep testing the direction of the wind as you trail.
And if at any time it cools the different side of the finger,
You will know that you are not walking in the same direction as when you left camp and must turn until the wet finger tells you which way to go.
The wind is a good guide so long as it keeps blowing in the same direction as when you left camp.
It occurred to Laurel at this point how little has changed in all these years.
Sure,
She imagined that seasoned explorer types probably had access to all kinds of expensive camping equipment and explorer tech.
But you could rely on seasons,
The trees,
Wind and sun.
Those never changed.
She continued thumbing the pages and started feeling a bit daunted by the camping sections.
As someone who spent more time inside on her laptop than out in the elements,
She wasn't up for learning how to build different kinds of tents and camping furniture out of branches.
Not after her first read of a camping book,
Anyhow.
She arrived at chapter six,
Finished her coffee and read on.
Making friends with the outdoor folk.
In the woods,
The fields,
On the shore.
There is but one way to make friends with the folk of the wild,
And that is by gentleness,
Kindness and quietness.
Also one must learn to be fearless.
It is said that while animals may not understand our language,
They do understand or feel our attitude towards them.
And if it is that the fear or dislike we stand little chance of really knowing them,
To say nothing of establishing any kind of friendly relations with them.
By quiet watchfulness,
Keenness of sight and hearing,
You may obtain a certain amount of knowledge of their ways.
But when you add real sympathy and kindly feelings,
You gain their confidence and friendship.
Make them understand that you will not interfere with or harm them and they will go about their own affairs unafraid in your presence.
Then you may silently watch their manner of living,
Their often amusing habits and their frank portrayal of character.
As a guest in the wild,
Conducting yourself as a courteous guest should,
You will be well treated by your wild hosts,
Some of whom,
In time,
May even permit you to feed and stroke them.
They do not dislike but fear you.
They would rather be your friends than your enemies.
The baby animal which has not yet learned to fear a human being will sometimes,
When in danger,
Run to you for protection.
This must win your heart,
If nothing else.
For now,
Laurel snapped the book shut and decided to continue reading when she got home.
Her heart already felt lighter and more optimistic about making purposeful time to be outdoors,
Connecting with nature.
As she collected up her things and checked out the book at the kiosk,
She decided that,
Although she might not be ready to spend days in the wild building camps and foraging for her daily meals,
She could try taking a small pack of food and water,
Venturing into a new part of the woods near where she lived and trying to understand and observe the elements,
Trees and wildlife that she so often ignored.
After all,
That was a start.
The End
