A Family Breakfast Outdoors
It's 49°F outside, and you can feel that fall is just about to tip over the horizon. In just two days, the autumn equinox will be upon us, and the sun is already lazily rising behind the tree line, its rays beaming through in fits and starts. At any moment, they might catch your face, casting the last warm remnants of a New England summer.
The changing of the seasons is a permanent, unavoidable fixture of life in the Northeast. You can never get too comfortable here, for nature will always, cyclically yet sometimes drastically, remind us of its true power over our lives. The New England climate imposes itself, and yet we humans are wired to dodge it as much as possible—often to our own detriment.
Our never-ending quest for comfort has led us to a world where we spend much of our lives indoors. Technological advances have made it incredibly easy to do so, especially for those of us in developed countries. The convenience of central air and heating allows us to live at a near-constant 72°F, despite the ever-changing weather conditions. Yet, this comfort comes at a cost—both financial and existential.
Amidst the relentless march of industrialization, we've forgotten our organic roots. We are not made of concrete and insulation; we are beings of air, water, soil, trees, animals, and all the living matter that make up the natural world. Though a higher power may have created us, it's Mother Nature who sustains us. We've become so disconnected from nature that it's as if we've severed the umbilical cord linking us to our origins.
Getting your family outside can feel like Sisyphus pushing his rock up the hill, even on a beautiful day. And just when you think you've succeeded, that you've gotten everyone outdoors and witnessed the spark of life in their eyes, the rock rolls back down. It's the inevitable outcome in this overly industrialized world we've built. And yet, every day, we must start anew.
So, what's the point? Why persist in this seemingly futile act? Especially when the forward momentum of the world around you pays no heed to your attempts to change the course of your destiny. It can seem like it’s all in vain, for how can the future possibly be a return to nature. The endless waltz of industry, of modernization is here, whether we like it or not. But still is nature, the wilderness, at least for now.
As I finished frying up some eggs and sausage for our family breakfast this morning, while looking out the window at our beautiful outdoor world, I felt the immense draw to bring everyone outside to eat. Maybe the draw was a result of me opening my heart and soul to nature, to the woods, over the past several months, that it was free to speak to me. So, I yelled out, “Breakfast is ready, and we’re eating outside!” which initially dismayed my wife, but she quickly embraced the idea and the urge of nature’ embrace, even dressing our 3-month-old for the occasion.
It might seem silly to make a big deal out of a family breakfast outdoors on a chilly September morning, but the fact that it felt so unusual spoke volumes to me. Awareness can be a powerful force, as can a rekindled connection to the wild. And so we sat, slightly bundled up but alive, savoring our meal as the sun finally rose above the trees, warming us and breathing new life into our souls.
In that moment, I was reminded of the words of Henry David Thoreau, who nearly two centuries ago declared, "In the wilderness is the salvation of mankind."
Stay free, my friends.
- Greg