This Deciduous December
Falls Lake Recreation Area — North Carolina
Embracing the Evergreen
I’ve never been one to go on a hike in December. I went on a walk in the white Wyoming winter once, and it was beautiful, but I can’t stand to be cold. Having lived in North Carolina all my life, there are a few certainties: the tea will be sweet, the barbeque will be soaked in vinegar, and the seasons don’t really matter here because the weather will have a mind of its own. When I discovered the forecast was sunny and close to 70 degrees for this first weekend in December, suddenly I heard the woods singing…tis the season to go hiking! So, I donned my hiking apparel, hopped in my sleigh (really, it’s a Kia Seltos) and over the lake and into the woods I went!
A Christmas hike with the Holy Spirit and my daughter, Jess…what a gift! In the many years I have walked with Jesus I know there is always something to discover, both about myself and about Him, when He calls us into something new…even something as simple as a hike.
Falls Lake in December found me walking across the parking lot and towards the trailhead with my Jess, wondering if I’d really see anything noteworthy. I mean, it was December after all. I was certain nothing would be blooming, and peak season for leaf color was long gone.
As Jess and I walked along the path covered with brown leaves, talking easily about this and that, she was the first to see the silky line of a spider across the path, which I was about to walk into. Initially, I dodged it and was about to walk on but catching sight of the spider that had thrown the line, I stopped. Though I’d rather not have one crawling on me, I’m not arachnophobic, and this particular spider was really quite eye-catching. Its round body was mostly bright orange with black marbling and about the size of my thumbnail. In my research later I discovered it was a marbled orb-weaver, sometimes called a pumpkin spider for obvious reasons. I’ve never seen one before but likely because they tend to be active at night. Jess and I tried to get a pic of it several times, but the breeze and its movement prevented us from capturing anything other than an orange blur. So, we walked on.
The little trail map we had checked out at the trailhead showed that our trek would end with a view of the lake, which was a promising reward. But as we continued down the path, I realized that this December hike would give us much more to see than just a leaf-covered floor in the forest along the way.
The lake was on either side of us a short distance away, which we would likely never have seen had we been there in the late spring or early summer when we usually hike. As we passed by the various empty campsites, the trunks of the trees framed various views of the water. Neither Jessi nor I have camped since she was a young girl, but the current views combined with our memories of past trips, quickened the desire in both of us to consider it again. I so enjoyed the excitement of my now grown and married daughter as she was drawn from one campsite to another, trying to envision which site would be best when the trees are full of leaves again and the lake views would be somewhat obscured by their presence. She made note of several sites, and I have no doubt that there are tents and campfires and bug spray in our family’s future.
As we moved down the trail, another thing I’d not anticipated was how the fallen leaves would obscure the path. Usually when I am hiking in the mountains, I’ll wear boots because the trails tend to be rocky and overrun with tree roots, and I have a tendency to turn an ankle if I don’t. Here around home the boots seemed somewhat overkill, so I opted for my trail shoes instead. Needless to say, I found myself mis-stepping repeatedly because I couldn’t see what was under the leaves that the trees had shed. Lesson learned.
We finally reached the end of the trail and sat for several minutes, resting and just taking in the panoramic view of the lake. It was beautiful, but to be honest, I believe I actually enjoyed this particular journey to the destination more than the destination itself. The discoveries were rich, the companionship was sweet and the hope of future memories yet to be made with those I love, left me feeling as though I’d been given an early Christmas gift by the Holy Spirit, and thankful that I had been open to something new and different.
As we hiked back to the “sleigh,” I noticed a rather large open area I hadn’t seen previously. What grabbed my attention was the cluster of ferns growing right in the center. The other vegetation had died back for the coming winter or been covered by the shedding of the forest, so their deep green leaves were a beautiful contrast to the dullness around them. I stood for a moment just taking it in and then walked on. Not long after, Jess experienced a similar moment but in response to a thick moss-covered path leading to one of the campsites. (She was still in search mode for just the right site.) It was quite lovely at that moment, and again we noted that had we been there at the “accepted” time for lake hiking and camping, we would likely have taken no notice of it among all of the other green overgrowth.
In those final moments, we hiked out of the woods to the sound of Christmas carols playing on my phone, noting the last of the turning leaves on the trees…Jess drawn to the peachy orange hues on one, and me to light yellows on another. Our first Christmas hike had been a beautiful success!
Since then, as I’ve remembered and researched, mused and meditated, I’ve discovered and rediscovered several things.
Deciduous trees are those that shed their leaves annually. Their canopy of leaves provides welcome shade from the heat of the sun in the warmer seasons but also limits our visibility to see other things that are also present. Interestingly, those ferns I saw are quite common in North Carolina. Scientifically named Polystichum acrostichoides, they are otherwise known as Christmas ferns, and are evergreen. The moss that Jess was drawn to is also evergreen. Though both are unnoticed in the more appealing seasons of spring and summer when nearly EVERYTHING is green, what’s hidden by the deciduous trees is revealed at the shedding.
This deciduous December, I’m captivated by the idea that some things in our lives are meant to be deciduous, while others will remain evergreen. Though nature itself teaches us not everything will remain constantly green and thriving, I believe it is human nature to resist the lesson. We find security in what is constant. However, there are some things we long to hold onto that God never intended to be permanent. Certain relationships are only meant for a season, as are certain jobs we fill or ministries we participate in. Attitudes and behaviors that were once permissible in our immaturity, must also be shed and fall off as we continue to grow in our walk with Jesus. Often, we refuse to embrace what is meant to be a natural spiritual process by remaining focused on all that we have given up. What we have shed continues to cover the path to deeper fellowship with God causing us to stumble and lose our balance along the way, as we resist what our Father longs to do in our hearts. We can’t see the path for the leaves.
But I’m beginning to understand that in the moments when I feel I have lost so much and allowed it to fall away, simply because God said it was time, I have also gained more light and more visibility for where my life is headed. I see the path to His heart for me more clearly, and that His presence has always surrounded me. I see beautifully evergreen things that He intends to be constant in my life that could only be revealed at the shedding. And I wonder again, why do I always resist the process? I have really let go of nothing of great importance. His everlasting love and faithfulness, the sweetness of time spent with family and friends, the promise of eternity where we will never be separated from God or each other again…and so many other things in my life are evergreen!
Father, as I move through the days leading up to Christmas and into the new year, help me to keep what I have learned from our Christmas hike close to my heart…the lesson from the deciduous trees…to surrender what You may ask me to shed, all the while embracing the evergreen!
