BY LESLIE REGO
I cannot count the number of times I have walked along a dirt road and said to myself, I will go just beyond the next curve. Or I will walk to the big tree ahead. Maybe I set a time for myself and will mosey on for 10 more minutes before I turn back. Even though I am pressed for time, turning back is agonizing because I am curious about what is around the next curve or just over the top of the hill. Inevitably, I walk a greater distance than I had in mind!
I am enjoying the books written by William Hamilton Gibson, an American naturalist in the late 1800s. Gibson’s observations from his time in the outdoors are charming. Along the margins of the books and threaded throughout the words are beautiful monochromatic illustrations. Gibson was comfortable working monochromatically, but found painting in color challenging. I find his monochromatic images fascinating and can spend hours studying them. I love how the drawings curve around the text or separate the text within a page. They become a fluid participant, with his words drawing the reader into an evocative natural world.
Gibson writes in his book, “Happy Hunting Grounds,” “This free, unrestrained meandering course of the grassy road possesses a continuous, irresistible charm. The ever-recurring vista with the invariable, tantalizing curve beyond; how does that elusive beckoning curve coquet with your fancy? What possibilities does it not suggest! What will be the prospect—hill or valley, shimmering pond, rippling river, or billowing field, dusky wood or hazy, tremulous distance of blue hills?… it is the spirit of the path luring you on and on with ever-enticing promises, never disappointing you, never satisfying you.”
Ah yes, that is exactly how I feel when I am desperate to continue around the next bend in the road. If I am on a mountain trail, I want to hike up to the top of the ridge only to see seven more ridges beyond where I have arrived!
Gibson goes on to write, “more yet!” Yes, “more yet! This is the very watchword of the grassy road. There is a segment of eternity in that beautiful curve beyond.”
Finally, I must stop and turn around. That next curve will still be there when I return. I can conquer that ridge up ahead on my next journey.
Leslie Rego is an Idaho Press Club award-winning columnist, artist and Blaine County resident. To view more of Rego’s art, visit leslierego.com.
