Nature Is My Church

Frank takes a walk in the redwoods…

Writing by FR Anderson
Art by Stano Grezdo

Nature Is My Church

I have had experiences that boarder on spiritual. The one I am going to write about are my experiences in deep wooded groves of trees…..where there is no one but myself for miles around.

I grew up sort of “off the grid.” We had electricity but also used wood…. and a generator at times. Our nearest neighbor was miles away, but, as a child, you find fun where you are. I had friends in town, but being down there every day was impractical. So I turned to the somber woods for companionship.

I had special spots…..that for one reason or another were “magical” not supernaturally. I was just drawn to them. One was as simple as a small fort sunk in a huge puddle. From almost any bank, I could jump onto the plywood roof and sit there cross-legged. I found if I sat absolutely still animals would come to drink. If I sat like a statue, lots of animals came to this water hole in an unlit prehistoric field with verdant spiral fern heads slowly unfurling. Birds and small insects were buzzing chirping and alive. 

There were thick groves of pine and redwoods that would tower overhead. If you would walk into one of those during the day… was like submerging into premature twilight. And you felt small….insignificant…..and an outsider.

The presence there isn’t malevolent….but it is far from benign. You can almost hear a whisper in the wind that lifts leaves and branches saying

“Where ewe goin HU-man? Du ewe know wher ur?” 

There were quite a few midnight Full Moonlight hikes. If it wasn’t a school night and there was a full moon I would pack snacks, water, weed to go full moon hiking. Those times were surreal! The woods I knew like the back of your hand was rendered foreign in the stark WHITE light of the moon and blacker than black shadows… color….no gray just the polar opposites of black and white keeping the night time Universe in balance.

Walk into one of THOSE groves at midnight…that communication is so thick, it is almost palatable. So strong it feels as if a soft pine needle hand – bones of branch – is slowly pushing between my shoulder blades demanding I lay prone and worship.

There is a movie by Danish Director Lars Von Trier called Antichrist. At one point a character says “Nature is Satan’s Church.” This just one way to describe the awareness I would pick up on. I don’t think it is supernatural. Could be just a dopamine rush….

Or am I picking up on some sort of communications between these ancient creatures?

About the Artist

Stano Grezdo was born in 1972 in Czechoslovakia (now Slovakia). He studied at The Graphic School of Bratislava, 1986 – 1991, working as a printing press operator and study the history of printing. As the revolution progressed, Grezdo was exposed to a spectrum of printed propaganda and protest through his work at the printing press. Grezdo moved to the U.S., carrying the themes of Soviet propaganda, nationalism, and catholicism that surrounded his life in Czechoslovakia. Those themes and the related symbols emerged as the foundation of his own aesthetic.

About the Author

FR Anderson II is a self-described “neo-hedonist” and member of The Satanic Temple. He is a staff writer at Cream Scene and the author behind the column Devilish.

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