Fortunately for us, surviving in the woods or in rural areas is not what it used to be. We aren't the ones who have had to log and dig out roads, hand build bridges, or face virtually unprotected all the dangers of the deep woods. We have electricity strung from home to camp, at great expense, and with great appreciation for the accomplishment. We have wells dug for us by modern machinery, heat not from trees we've timbered, dragged, chopped and cured ourselves, but heat by propane or electricity.
Yet there is a lot to learn from the old-timers who lived in the thickness and darkness of the woods, with transportation by horses or, in the case of the well-off, the first old style cars and trucks.
I had the great fortune of being given an OLD manual, from someone who cherished it, the latest date in the manual being 1919. It is an extraordinary work of wood-life, of coping with the challenges of homesteading woods, caring for one another and family, camp songs and entertainments, and an overall look at the joys of living in REALITY.
It is truly worn and battered. Some places are hard to read. But for those who are transitioning from urban life to rural areas, for survival, for a more independent way of living, I think it might have something to say!
Here is a little clip, a poem, which looks to me as if it came from Boy's Life Magazine, no date, sometime before 1919.
THE SPELL OF THE FIRE
By FJ. Patten
Strange are the murmurings in the trees,
Secret the whisperings on the breeze-
Deep in the heart of the wilderness.
Darkness creeps near with its velvet pall,
Silent, relentless, covering all-
Awesome the heart of the wilderness!
Mystery lurks in the trees and sky,
Wild is the sound of the night beast's cry-
Fearsome the heart of the wilderness!
Then,- in the darkness, a flash of light
Grows to a camp fire, cherry and bright-
Home in the heart of the wilderness!
Living in the woods, as I currently, away from the bustle and noise of the city life, one of my favorite things is the darkness and silence at night. Without a moon or a clear sky, you can't even see your hand in front of your face in the black. When the sky is clear, the stars are so thick they look like a crust of gems over the black circle above. When the moon casts its light, the blue white fairy glow can give you all you need to walk the dark ferny paths at night.
But never, never, never do you battle with sleep over the streetlights nasty glare in your eyes. With great fortune and good luck instead, you may see an owl, or hear the rustle of the nocturnal life seeking food and water.
Living in the woods is a huge adjustment. You absolutely give up much that fills life in the city. Yet reality reigns queen here, a harsh but truthful mistress.
