A special place
The familiar landscape behind me was fading away, and it was obvious that I was walking into a special place. To my front was the unknown. The big swampland stretched out before me.
I've peered into it from access roads on both sides, but on this day, I would penetrate the heart of this vast bottomland. I was not anxious or uneasy. I know that the woods belong to the critters that live there, but I am not an intruder. It is a part of my world, too. I claim rights to these wild places.
Big pines soared into the clear blue sky. The pines were scattered throughout the stand of hardwoods. There was an understory of bay, dogwood and holly. The ground was not wet or spongy but carpeted in a thick bed of leaves and pine straw. There was some underbrush, but it was not thick. Game trails led in all directions. I was in no hurry and walked carefully and deliberately through the beautiful woods, stopping frequently to soak in the mystic nature of the place.
A shallow creek flowed slowly and silently through a small clearing ahead. The ground here was firm and sandy. I was surprised that there was little standing water in the area, considering all the rain we have seen lately. We expect swamps to be somewhat swampy.
There was only a drop of a few feet in elevation from the land to the north where I had started, but the ground beyond the creek began to rise again in elevation. As I walked forward, I was amazed to see a large mound rising at least eight feet above the surrounding forest floor. This had to be a dynamic feature from the past, when this drainage was formed, or a more recent creation by Native Americans - an Indian mound. The mound was very large, perhaps 200 feet long and more than 100 feet wide. There were no pines on the mound, only smaller hardwoods.
Beyond this mound, another large mound rose above the forest floor, but this one was not as high. Maybe only four feet above the natural ground. The trees here were absolutely magnificent. I was surprised to see so many pines. They were giants. This part of the forest reminded me of the Congaree National Forest with its state- and world-record trees. The boles of the pines were massive, and they stretched well above the giant hardwoods. I had no idea that there were so many large pines in this part of the swamp. They are not visible from the trails and woodland roads on either side of the swamp.
Walking on, I encountered another smaller mound. This one was perhaps six feet above the swamp floor. Another small creek flowed through this area. I stepped over it with ease. This day I felt like I was the only person alive to have ever seen this place. But realistically, I knew that I was not.
A faint sound came over the crisp, clean, pure air to my ears. It was running water just ahead. Here was the result of the recent rains. Murky water rushed through a well-defined channel among the trees. The stream was at least 15 feet wide and very deep. I couldn't touch the bottom with a very long stick. It was impossible to cross here, so I walked up and down the length looking for a log or some other natural crossing. Through the open woods beyond, I could see a bank rising toward higher ground to the south. I knew that I was looking at the far side of the swamp. I tied an orange ribbon here to mark this spot so that it could be found from the other side. It would help to close the loop for me. I turned around here and started back to my truck and a more familiar landscape. Near the truck a relic from the past caught my eye. An ancient Indian arrowhead.
This swamp is a natural sanctuary. Deer, turkey and other wildlife can live here with practically no disturbance. I know that I too can wander here with no disturbance. I might hunt here some, or I might just respect it for what it is. A special place.
Reach Dan Geddings at cdgeddings@gmail.com.