The Gentle Art of Tramping

I've fallen in love with a book — and it cost me nothing but the time to listen. Stephen Graham's The Gentle Art of Tramping is free on Internet Archive and Project Gutenberg (as an audiobook, no less), and I'm only two chapters in and already a convert. Not to actual tramping, mind you — I never aspired to be a Tramp, nor do I have any desire to sleep under a hedgerow — but a convert to the idea of it. The unhurried walk. The open eye. The soul let loose to notice.

Graham writes:

"Nature becomes your teacher, and from her you will learn what is beautiful and who you are and what is your special quest in life and whither you should go... you are gradually becoming an artist in life, you are learning the gentle art of tramping, and it is giving you an artist's joy in creation."

That line stopped me cold. Isn't this exactly what happens with a sketchbook in hand, or a nature journal open on your knee? You don't have to walk to Timbuctoo to learn it — an afternoon in the woods with your heart and eyes actually open will do.

He goes further:

"Even if your tramping expedition is a mere jest, a jaunt, a spree, you are apt to feel the benefits of getting into a right relation toward God, Nature, and your fellow man."

Right relation toward God, Nature, and your fellow man — from a walk. I don't know about you, but I could use more of that kind of peaceful, unearned grace.

And then there's the rucksack line, which made me laugh out loud:

"The happy tramp puts ever something more into his capacious rucksack for pleasure or profit. There's a hunk of tobacco, there's his favorite volume of poems, his sketchbook—his danger is in putting in too much and not putting in the right things."

Swap the tobacco for a thermos, throw in a few paper towels and that's my paint kit exactly.

So, the blessing is in the book and in the mere woodland jaunt it encourages. Be a tramp. Practice the gentle art of Tramping. Just for an hour, by yourself or with a friend. Bring a sketchbook or a notebook and your favorite pen or travel watercolors. Walk. Observe. Take a few notes. Write a poem. Sketch a lovely scene. Discover what is to be learned from tramping. And then share your insights with me.

I’m already feeling a bit jealous.