Musings After a Soul Walk Along Salt Creek

It was a very humid, sunny morning. I started at 7 a.m. in hopes of beating the heat. The kind of day where you first think – this doesn’t feel so bad. Afterall it’s mostly shady, the forest will protect. The trail meanders along the creek. At some points in clear view, at others maybe 40 to 50 feet away with water out of sight. The trail is well maintained but step off the path and you are in tall grass with plenty of plant life that does not mix well with human flesh. Life and death are ever present. Towering trees with full spreads of leaves, small ones only a few feet tall trying to find the sunlight, still standing dead tress awaiting their fate, and dead ones decaying on the forest floor while they provide life and shelter for other beings. 

It was not more than 10 minutes into my walk when I saw something for the very first time in my 65 trips around the sun. A turkey descending from its overnight roost. Then maybe 30 seconds later another. They were large Toms. And so, my walk begins with a thrilling sight. Bursts of sound which at first startled me and then left me in wonder.  What’s next? The next 3 plus hours will not provide anything that striking but plenty to contemplate. As I enter the lower bottom areas the mosquitos become intense as there is no breeze and my lathering in essential oils does not prove very effective. I vacillate from “this is going to be a long morning” to “just go with it, you’ve been here before.” As I type this, I survived but I’ve got a host of bites which serve as reminders of that morning sojurn. I was left to ponder, “Who is really the superior being, human or mosquito?” I am left bowing to the bug as they certainly took more from me than I from them.  Fortunately, I was able to find higher ground where the breeze and the border of forest with prairie were more hospitable. 

The forest did not disappoint my ears. Wood knocking birds, creaking old cottonwoods, bird song too numerous to mention, and bullfrogs in full throat.  The wind was slight but there was an occasional rustling of the grass on the ground and leaves on the trees above.  There was some din of human activity in the distance as this park does border some urban housing and a highway. However, I found that with the passage of time it either subsided or the nature sounds that I was focused on made me immune to the echoes of human activity. I really think it was the later. My own footfalls, which I clearly was aware of early on also escaped my ears as time passed, replaced by my heartbeat (I was, at times, not pausing enough and forgetting that this was to be a walk, not a hike). 

Everywhere there was the sense of sight. Greenery was the most evident feature. It contrasted with the blue, cloudless sky and the dark earth. Ants were a plenty when I took the time to really explore the soil. I spotted a Cooper’s hawk circling me high overhead which I am told may have special meaning. Three deer made my acquaintance and one posed for a photo before darting of into the woods with her friend. The water of the creek was a constant. Interestingly, in some places the creek water was so still it did not even seem water to me, but in its stillness, just an opaque mud-like appearance. Then around the bend it was flowing slowly, in some places even displaying a ripple of whitewater as it moved over a fallen tree limb. 

I took time to touch as much as I could: serpentine vines, gnarly pines, mixed prairie grass, the soil, some cottonwood drifting through the air, a milkweed. The trail is exclusively high above the water and the trail does not go down to the bank without quite a descent thus touching the water was not an option.  Touch in one case also included taste with an abundance of mulberry trees with full fruit. I partook of several, washed down with my supply of water. 

One thought that continued to occupy my brain was, “the forest gives more that it takes.” It stimulates the senses for those who take the time. While my walk was mostly in solitude, I did encounter some folks hiking and biking. The bikers seemed to be obsessed with speed. Most hikers were moving at a steady pace. My sense was that folks were focused on an end point, an arrival of some sort. While I cannot deny thoughts about that, I think our recent training has brought me an appreciation of staying in the moment, attending to my senses. At least doing more of being in the moment than I have in the past.  I walked a total of 6 miles. Was it a hike or a walk? My default for my entire life has been the hike. The analogy that comes to mind is eating. Does one enjoy their food by eating it slowly and savoring it, or just scarf it down? I have always been a fast eater and it is a hard habit to break. A work in progress. My tendency to hike as opposed to walk and pause is also a work in progress. This soul walk proved to be small step in the direction of slowing down and appreciating nature. It would be arrogant of me to try and define what “soul” really means. However, I think a came a bit closer to understanding mine after this walk and the time in North Carolina, and I thank you for that. 

This soul walk reflection was written by Jeff Mohr, The Mountain cohort, 2025. (Wilderness Park, Lincoln, Nebraska)