Out in the woods, we sometimes measure distances in “see-fars”—the distance you can see into the trees. In the summer, a see-far isn’t really very far. Between the bright green of poplar leaves, the spread of rhododendron branches, and the twining undergrowth, the woods are thick and full of hidden places. But in the winter, our forests are different. Lucas just wrote a great blog post about our sleeping trees and streams, and how different our campus looks right now.
When the leaves have fallen and the rhododendrons are curled up with cold, a see-far is suddenly much further. From the Back Slab, where we have flag raising during the summer, you can see all the way to the tennis courts, and even to Hart Road. The Lake, with its thin frosting of ice, spreads out before your eyes from the back of Cabin Library.
But there are different kinds of seeing far. The quiet of winter, with some of the busy-ness of the world at a lull, is a good time to see yourself from far away, or look ahead to what you might see coming up in your life. So step out into the long see-fars of your woods, and think about what’s around those trees for you, and how you want to get there.