DeKalb: Go into the woods, out of the madness

By Rick Diguette

Last week, I took a walk in the forest across the street from my home in Tucker. Although I don’t know much about the trees that towered above me, some of them must date from before the close of the Civil War. For all I know, soldiers bivouacked beneath their branches in July of 1864, when federal troops under the command of Maj. General John Logan of the army of Tennessee passed through Tucker on their way to Stone Mountain.

As soon as I stepped foot in the forest, I was transported to a world of shadows dappled with sunlight. All around me myriad insects hummed and buzzed, and chattering squirrels raced each other from tree to tree. More soothingly, the splash of water cascading over a rock waterfall reminded me that the forest can be a place of rest, and unseen mysteries, and fleeting wonders. There’s even an old “No Swimming” sign grown into the side of a tree that’s a wonder in and of itself.

At the heart of the forest is a small lake — or pond, to be more accurate. Only a few feet deep, it is home to a thriving population of ducks, geese, turtles and small fish. On this day the ducks were in full-throated dispute. The geese seemed content, and perhaps wisely so, to listen and observe from a safe distance. As for the turtles, they had climbed onto every available stump protruding from the water’s surface to sun themselves and catch up on turtle gossip. I couldn’t tell what the fish were up to, but then fish are shy and retiring.

Some years ago the county spent about two weeks paving a wide gravel road into the forest. Dump trucks and bulldozers noisily arrived each morning. Before the job was completed, more than a few trees had been felled. I never did understand what the road was for; it struck me as an unnecessary intrusion. The forest seems to have agreed. For since then, and with little noise or fanfare, it has turned that gravel road into an ivy covered memory. I just hope that doesn’t mean the dump trucks and bulldozers will soon return.

More recently an aspiring Eagle Scout mapped the trails criss-crossing the forest; another reconstructed a wooden bridge fallen into disrepair on one side of the lake. Those are examples of community spirit at its best, and we need plenty of that because there will always be some in our community who don’t know how to act. Visitors to Henderson Park, which is adjacent to the forest, have lately been victimized by thieves of the smash-and-grab variety. A hand-lettered sign now warns, “Jerks are smashing car windows and stealing anything in sight. Beware!”

Last week, I walked into the forest and immediately sensed the timeless peace that reigns there. An hour later I walked out feeling refreshed and restored. If you don’t happen to live across the street from a forest like I do, you can visit Stone Mountain or Decatur’s Fernbank forest. But visit often. It’s good for the soul.

Rick Diguette, a teacher at Georgia Perimeter College, has lived in DeKalb County for over 20 years.