Although I am not a Master Composter, or soil scientist, I have spent many hours learning about soil and compost during the Master Gardener and Beginning Urban Farmer Apprenticeship programs, which I completed in 2014 and 2015 respectively. I continue to take advantage of opportunities to educate myself more, through hands-on workshops, and books. I recently attended a half-day hands-on workshop put on by the Tualatin Soil and Water Conservation District, Soil Health Workshop for Schools and Community Gardens. I am currently reading The Soil Will Save Us, by Kristin Ohlson, and listening to The Dirt Cure, by Dr. Maya Shetreat-Klein. I am developing friendships with three soil scientists as well. While all those experiences are enriching, they do not surpass the enlightenment observing the process without human intervention.

This week, while camping with family and a friend, celebrating Haylee Nye, my girlfriend’s (Lori Nye) daughter, graduating from the National College of Natural Medicine, with a Master of Science in Nutrition and Doctorate in Naturopathic Medicine, I took time to observe nature solo. In stilling  my mind, neither thinking that which transpired, nor what could potentially happen, and allowing my all my senses to observe and process, I noticed things in nature I had only pondered or read about. I saw decomposition, composting, the natural process of soil building, in front of my eyes, and beneath my feet. It was an awe-inspiring experience.

Across from our campsite, I discovered a tree growing on a large decaying log. I revisited it throughout the day, watching how the sun illuminated it, highlighting various features, especially the roots. Occasionally, I took photographs, sometimes in black and white. Because of the trunk size, I surmised it was an older tree, well established. It was tall, and provided habitat for many animals, fungi, insects, microorganisms, and plants, most notably moss.

One afternoon, my girlfriend Lori Nye and I embarked on a short hike on a nearby trail, following the crystal clear Santiam River. During the hike, we spotted a flat clearing in the evergreen trees, with a thick carpet of moss beneath them. It was like a living sponge. We cleared the area of small branches and pine cones, and lay down for several minutes, grounding ourselves, clearing our minds of all thoughts. It felt very relaxing. Periodically, Lori would gently peal back the layers of moss, to reveal the debris beneath, the slow process of soil building. It was difficult to return to Portland, Oregon the following day, back to city life.

Lori and I watched the documentary Unbroken Ground the evening of our return. It explores the critical role food plays in finding solutions to the environmental crisis. Well over one hundred people attended. It was standing room only. Playing in a the Patagonia store, we were surrounded by outdoor gear. The experience stirred up emotions and memories of our recent camping trip. It also reminded me of the importance of biodiversity and learning from nature. I will be going camping again soon.