COLUMN: Tales from the Gravel Ridge – The boundless significance of nature

A brochure, perhaps better described as a booklet, entitled “Nature Writing Festival” caught my attention not long ago. The details inside the brochure were all in German, beginning with the heading Die Natur und Wir (Nature and Us). As details regarding the festival indicate, the topic is very broad. The back cover of the booklet enumerates four related sub-topics, namely, writing about wind, water, woods, and wilderness, concluding with the words Saetze wie Sand, namely the concept that sentences on the subject are as plentiful as sand. That being the case, the organizers nevertheless must have concluded that there was always more that could be said about nature and our place in it.

While I had no expectation of attending the festival being held in Hamburg, Germany, I nevertheless continue to be intrigued by the wide range of subjects that were covered during the five-day event in June, 2025. How could that range of subjects on writing about nature possibly fail to remind me of the wonders of nature I saw and experienced during the years our family lived in Rosengard.

The mention of the wind being one of the broad topics for the festival, brought to my mind the poem by Christina Rossetti, Who Has Seen the Wind? The poet makes the observation that the trembling of the leaves is an indication of the wind passing through. She then goes on to say that the trees bow down their heads when the wind is passing by. Perhaps, by her choice of words, the poet is reverently acknowledging that all nature reflects the glory of God. The woodland on our farm had plenty of trees, and without a doubt the trembling of the leaves added to the sense of calmness and beauty that surrounded us. Sometimes it was those well-rooted trees that kept the wind at bay on stormy winter nights, and on hot, sunny summer days the same trees provided shelter for all those creatures that also made their homes in that wonderful woodland of my childhood.

Water, another theme of that writing festival, had its place in our community. We had a creek flowing through some Rosengard farms, although not through our property. However, we had a well, and during much of the year it was adequate for our needs. In winter that became a little more challenging, but fortunately the Wiens farm across the ridge from our place had an adequate supply. We were able, if we were short of water, to get some from their well. I have vivid memories of that long-handled pump. In the alternative, of course, if we had significant amounts of snowfall, the youngsters of our family would simply bring the snow indoors, to fill a large round boiler placed on top of our wood-burning kitchen stove. This was important for at least two reasons, one of which was to ensure an adequate supply of water for laundry purposes. The other significant factor was the simple reality that such water was wonderfully soft, making for a good water source on laundry day. It was for that latter reason, that we also collected all the rainwater that came off the roof of our summer kitchen. Our well water was very hard, evidenced by the mineral accumulations in our water kettle. Rainwater provided an easy solution.

The woodlands on our farm, and in a sense the wildness of those woodland areas, are by themselves a huge blessing to me as I reflect on the beauty of it all. So too are the meadows, two of them in fact, which provided grazing for livestock, while the trees made for a cool retreat during the hottest days of summer. These trees and meadows had, I am convinced, a much greater effect of peace and serenity for us, along with beauty, then we children would readily have comprehended at the time.

Somehow Christina Rossetti’s poem takes on new significance as I peruse the brochure I picked up at the University of Hamburg. That booklet provides me with much food for thought and reminds me that the treasures of nature are indeed timeless.