The Man Among the Trees

When I walk to the very edge of my backyard and stand with the house at my back, I leave the suburbs of Pittsburgh behind me. In front of me is the forest. As soon as I turn my attention to the forest, I become more sensitive to it. My eyes dart around, coming to an abrupt halt every time they see an animal move among the trees. I immediately check the thicket to my left. The dense trees and shrubs provide good cover, so deer are likely to bed down there; sure enough, there are three hunched forms lying quietly—yet attentively—among the old leaves. A bird suddenly cries out high above me, and I jerk my head up to see broad, short wings and a light underbelly etched against the sky. Without missing a beat, the words red-tailed hawk surface in my mind. As all these little bits of knowledge flit through my head, I inevitably end up thinking about the man who first gave them to me: my uncle, Randy Shope. I have associated Uncle Randy with the forest for as long as I can remember. An avid outdoorsman, my uncle is linked to the forest by his extensive knowledge of its workings and by his very personality; he possesses the forest’s patience and vitality, as well as its sense of humor.

Although I am familiar with the ways of the forest and its inhabitants, my knowledge pales in comparison to my uncle’s. One of the reasons my uncle is so inexplicably linked to the forest is that he has spent a significant part of his life learning about the forest and the animals that live there. Uncle Randy is a complete nature-lover, and he is very passionate about hunting and fishing. Although the concept of an animal-loving hunter may initially seem a bit self-contradictory, in truth hunters tend to have a pervasive interest in the animals that they occasionally pursue. My uncle, for instance, is fascinated by deer, and his many years of hunting have allowed him to accumulate an impressive amount of knowledge regarding their behavior, as well as their feeding and breeding habits. This love for deer and other forest-dwelling creatures has led my uncle to devote a significant portion of his life to observing them in the forest. In the process, he has developed a bond with the forest itself and has come to respect it. His passion for forest life doesn’t end with animals, however; it even extends to the trees that make up the forest. As a carpenter, my uncle has long possessed an interest in different woods and trees; he has therefore taken the time to learn about various tree species. All this learning and exploring in the forest has made Uncle Randy into a veritable encyclopedia of forestry, and for years he has maintained his position as the family forest authority. For this reason, I always envision my uncle tromping through the woods, scouting for deer or providing a commentary on the trees. His knowledge has fueled my own interest in the forest and has provided me with a sort of technical understanding; he has taught me about the life forms that make up the forest and has made me aware of the balance that exists between those organisms. As a result, I have come to believe that humans should respect all life forms and that mankind must practice moderation in utilizing environmental resources.

Uncle Randy’s knowledge is not the only thing that binds him to the forest, however; he even possesses some of the forest’s personality traits. Like the forest, my uncle is patient and resilient. The trees and animals of a forest are remarkable in that they can stand almost any amount of natural torture. They patiently endure stifling blizzards, violent winds, and overwhelming storms, always managing to thrive after the trauma has passed. My uncle, too, is ready and willing to endure trying situations. When he is out in the woods scouting for deer or birds, he sits patiently and quietly for hours on end, even if the weather is less than ideal. At times, my uncle also faces storms of a different kind. His mother, who is getting on in years, is often under the mistaken impression that Uncle Randy steals her possessions. She frequently harasses him on this account, despite the fact that he pays for her apartment and cares for her. Yet even in the face of his own mother’s unkindness, my uncle displays the patience and resilience of the forest; he quietly tolerates her accusations, waiting for the storm to pass, and continues to help her. When his mother finally calms down, Uncle Randy simply jokes about her antics and moves on with his life. Like the forest, my uncle is able to bear difficult situations and to bounce back when they pass. I have always admired my uncle for possessing these traits; since the forest shares these characteristics, I have also developed a greater appreciation for the unbeatable resilience of the forest.

Another characteristic that my uncle shares with the forest is a clear sense of humor. Any individual who has spent a significant amount of time in a forest can attest to the fact that forests love to mess with their visitors. For instance, a hiker might be making his way along a favorite trail, feeling confident and at peace with the forest, when he suddenly finds his path obstructed by a newly fallen tree and is consequently forced to slip and slide his way down a steep hill in order to proceed. If the forest is in a particularly flippant mood that day, the hiker will probably step in a pile of deer feces when he reaches the bottom of the hill. During such times the trees’ rustling leaves sound remarkably like sniggering. My uncle shares this sense of humor. For example, he once decided to play a joke on his son Jared, who had just received a brand new dirt bike for his birthday. When Jared wasn’t looking, Uncle Randy placed a smoke bomb in the bike, and he laughed heartily at Jared’s frenzied reaction to the black clouds billowing out of his treasured birthday present. On another occasion, Uncle Randy managed to trick me into smelling a strange looking liquid that turned out to be red fox urine (he later explained that this foul smelling substance is useful for covering one’s scent when one is out hunting), and he was utterly amused when the stench practically knocked me out. Clearly, my uncle and the forest share an affinity for playing jokes. This shared trait strengthens their connection and has actually helped me to better understand the forest. I can never be sure when Uncle Randy will choose to have a laugh at my expense, and since he and the forest are so inextricably linked, I have come to expect such jokes from the forest as well. As a result, I have a better appreciation for the somewhat fickle, unpredictable nature of the forest and am careful not to let my guard down when I am exploring in the woods.

My uncle Randy and the forest are truly inseparable. They are two links in a chain, connected by my uncle’s extensive knowledge of the forest and by the traits that they share. For this reason, I have trouble envisioning either the forest or my uncle alone. Over the course of this partnership, each one has exerted a notable influence on the other, and the two of them serve as a clear example of the deep bond between human and environment. Uncle Randy has taken care of his local forest by planting numerous trees, by re-stocking a forest pond with fish and plants, and by helping to keep the deer population to a healthy size; in turn, the forest seems to have transferred its patience, toughness, and sense of humor to my uncle. As a result of his bond with the forest, my uncle has come to respect it and recognizes the importance of preserving each form of forest life. This attitude toward the environment is extremely important in today’s world, where ever-increasing human development threatens the safety of the natural world and, consequently, humankind. In modern society, respectful attitudes like my uncle’s will allow for the preservation of human beings, as well as the environment.