Naturally Occurring

One day last week I ran on a cool and cloudy afternoon at the base, and when I was done stopped briefly at the beach area behind the UTSI campus and adjacent to student housing.

This place is called Mullican Beach but the actual beach area proper is only a postage stamp size piece of sand.

In all the years I have been coming to this beautiful and quiet place I have never seen anyone else here except for me and two people I used to swim with when I first began my brief stint with triathlons.

Me.  One regular training partner.  And one other who we occasionally ran into briefly in the lake while swimming (usually as he was effortlessly passing us).

That's it.  Only three people.

And for years now, only me.

With a history like that I have come to almost (wrongly of course, but almost) consider this to be my own private place.

The weather on this day was very cool and I had been sweating while running. 

As I climbed out of the truck I was cold, and as I looked up at the sky that was alternating every few minutes between weak sunshine and the threat of rain, I grabbed for my jacket.

I zipped the jacket up high under my chin in my half-hearted and weary battle against the wind, and slowly walked down to the water.

I looked around me to confirm and reassure that this place was still the same.

Looking in front of me I saw the huge Woods Reservoir as far as the eye could see, the Cumberland Plateau off in the far distance, a million bare trees along shore lines and hidden in coves and on every land surface that will soon be filled with green again.

Looking closer to me I saw the boat ramp where I started mile long training swims, a boat house with benches along three sides of its flat roof, the concrete steps and ramp leading from the parking lot down to the water that I sat on a hundred times while regrouping after workouts, the small sandy beach, the leaf covered trail and the sailboats that have been laying dormant in the same spots for months.

After a couple of years of "new" I am finding comfort and security in the "old".

This place had not changed one bit and I was very glad.

Wishing I had brought one more layer of clothing because I was cold, I walked slowly down the steps, down the ramp, stood briefly on the roof of the boat house, then slowly made my way down the grassy hill towards the boats.

After a hard run I was cold but loved being at this place, so the cold was a small price to pay to be able to walk alone and close to the water...............

I stood for a few moments looking closely at this boat

I have looked at it only in passing many times since arriving back in Tennessee but it is lovely and I look forward to seeing it glide on the surface of a blue and glassy-smooth lake sometime very soon..............

Usually I walk on the wide open trail when heading into the woods close to the beach, which I do often.

On this cool and windy day I instead bushwhacked through the woods, listening to the sound of rustling leaves shifting with each footstep.

I had seen this small flock of birds on the lake, but with all the trees I struggled to get an unobscured shot of them.

Finally I caught a space in the trees and took this quick picture before spooking them all and sending them flying...............

A few years ago me, LC and someone I worked with at the time, all went for a hike at Short Springs.

My colleague was more familiar with the natural area than I was and so he led the way, taking us on a long and scenic hike through the woods and to Machine Falls.

This outgoing and talkative guy seemed to take great pleasure in pointing out interesting trees, flowers, ferns, caves, falls etc. that we came across as we traveled the trail, and he drew our attention to things often.

One of his favorite phrases while we walked was "naturally occurring". 

In fact he said it often enough that we all began to laugh about it.

At one point during our hike he good-naturedly pointed to a beer can laying among the leaves and in an over-the-top Announcer Voice announced his newest find along the trail - a naturally occurring beer can.

Ever since that day LC and I, whenever we find trash on trail, point to it and say things like "Look!  A naturally occurring Wendy's Frosty cup!"

We did it in Alaska.  We did it in Wyoming.  And we do it in Tennessee.

That was years ago and while writing about it now it sounds so lame.

But it has been a running joke between me and LC ever since that walk at Short Springs.

A naturally occurring glass bottle seen in the woods at Mullican Beach..................

After walking and picture taking for a long time through the woods and along the shore, I worked my way through the trees and further into the woods looking for a trail that I knew was in the area.

I was initially surprised that I could not find it until I did indeed walk up to it and realized that it was completely covered in leaves.

The trail was indistinguishable from the ground of the woods around it.............

Circling back to the beach along trail that cleared out as I got closer..............

Twice over the past couple of months I have been outside in either the front or back yard and suddenly heard noise in the sky.

The first time it happened was late in the afternoon and I was picking branches up that had fallen onto the ground during the previous nights' rain.

When I first heard the noise I looked up and saw one, then another, then another, and pretty soon the sky was completely filled with crows flying high in the air and all traveling in the same direction.

Stunned, I stood looking up at them as they just kept coming, tens and hundreds at a time.

Briefly I thought about running back into the house to grab my camera but quickly discounted the idea, thinking that the birds would soon end.

But they didn't - they kept coming for much longer than I ever would have expected.

I had my chance to take pictures of them but who would have guessed that there would ever be so many?

I had never seen anything like it before and it was stunning.

A mystery with no answers, but stunning................

On a very gloomy and quiet morning early last week I was outside in the back yard with Jamie and suddenly heard the sound of birds.

Looking into the trees to my right I could see hundreds of small black birds screeching, flying, circling, landing in the trees, taking flight again in one large unexpected and chaotic frenzy.

They were everywhere and had seemingly come out of nowhere.

This time I ran into the house to grab my camera, certain that by the time I got back outside they would be gone....................

I was initially disappointed when I first ran back outside because the frenzy seemed to have died down and I thought that I had totally missed out on the bird-adventure.

I quickly snapped this picture before they all disappeared..............

And then unexpectedly, and seemingly as one, a whole lot of birds took flight from the trees at the same time and there was another brief period of mad frenzy.

There was not as many birds as before but there were still many, and I snapped pictures blindly and as quickly as I could because I could see very little in the camera view finder, hoping that I had successfully captured some of the action.

Completely unexpected commotion on a very cloudy and ominous looking early morning..............

The very idea of a bird is a symbol and a suggestion to the poet. A bird seems to be at the top of the scale, so vehement and intense his life. . . . The beautiful vagabonds, endowed with every grace, masters of all climes, and knowing no bounds -- how many human aspirations are realised in their free, holiday-lives -- and how many suggestions to the poet in their flight and song!.............John Burroughs