This past weekend, my daughter and I joined some friends and Williams College students for a weekend of canoeing and camping in the Saranac Lake region of the Adirondacks. The weather was incredible — warm sunny afternoons, clear brisk evenings and cool, misty mornings.
We spent our days quietly; appreciating the simple pleasure of dinner prepared on a two burner stove shared with friends around the glowing embers of a camp fire. We cleaned dishes used by eight people in one small pot that doubled as a kitchen sink, with the scantiest amount of water scooped from the lake. Even the tiniest scraps of food were collected to pack out in our one small garbage bag.
Lighting was provided by the sun or the stars. A small LED headlamp allowed us to read a few pages in our tents before we nodded off.
We listened to the silence.
We used a compost toilet, more fondly known as an outhouse. We decided on clothing options based on temperature and functionality. We added and subtracted layers to adjust to the weather.
We paddled for hours, enjoying the spectacular fiery fall beauty of ochre, crimson, burnt orange, and dazzling yellows that trimmed the edges of the lake. We were hypnotized by the rhythmic movement of our blades sliding through the waters of the Saranac. We felt the thoughts of our busy lives and lists of things to do slip away in the wake of our boats.
At night, we slept. We slept soundly and purposefully. We stayed warm with layers of clothing, bundled in our sleeping bags. We woke refreshed. We laughed, we talked, we swam – briefly.
I am sure we all wondered why we feel so pressed for time in our regular days. I vowed, on the drive home, to endeavor to simplify my life — to walk more, to use less water, to sleep deeply, to spend time in the woods, to look at the sky and the moon.
And in doing so, not only will I be appreciating life more, I will be leaving a smaller footprint.
Sustainability isn’t about using only what we need, it is recognizing that what we have surpasses what we want.