Coming up to where the road ends there was only one
vehicle. Solitary, empty, to the side.
This meant that the forest was basically empty. Going to the less-taken
side, like Robert Frost, it could be seen that it was a no-taken side. Joseph
Campbell said enter the forest where there is no path. Well, Campbell was met
half-way on that one. There was a path, but no people. So on our journey we are
somewhere between Frost and Campbell, which is not so bad…
The mixture of snow, sleet, hail, ice, and whatever
other concoction the past day had let loose from the firmament, made for a
weird and beautiful view. The branches, slanted over, not knowing exactly what
to do with themselves, made archways over many of the terrain’s way. Up above
the sky was white, and blended in with an adjoining summit so that a viewer
could not discern where the sky met the land.
White.
Crunch went the ice that covered the snow. It had
stopped raining. The canines were happy if a little bit confused about what all
the strange texture and mood of the land meant. It has been warm or warmish,
with golden fields trying to announce themselves, and then a turn of mood to
this peculiar ice and snow stormy way.
Slowly the path was travelled, staying away for the
most part from the deep valley. Not a print was seen at first, - but then some-
a rabbit had crossed the way earlier, and then one more set, - but I couldn’t
figure out what made it. There was a freedom above the regular one of being in
nature. It was that there would not be any other walkers one had to worry about
greeting, - holding back dogs somewhat if necessary.
It took a
half hour to get to the opening in the fields. A pathway goes out and gives
birth to a round tractor cut path and there are acres beyond it of space that
is only really mingled with large evergreens and some other trees. There are
more edges to forests, a sandy area now covered with snow, and some chaparral
here or there.
Two old tractors, given up the ghost, - wait near
the middle, as does a solitary tree. The tree, of indiscriminate origin (to me
at least), held ice, looked haunted, a bit gaunt or frail even for its size,
which was about thirty feet tall.
Having waited there for long instances, one could
sense some early hint of dusk arriving. This, plus a spatter of rain coming
down and carried across the air by wind.
It was time
to go though outer hints and some internal mechanism that said as much.
Going back, it was quiet save for the crunch of
snow. No bird or animal was seen. Near the end the edge of the valley was
briefly walked past and gazed upon and down. The four legged ones decided to
run down it. This was good for their brains and to get their energy finally
out. Walking out, - all were well and all was well. The solitary vehicle had
since left, - and there was an electrical feeling of stillness and aliveness
through the knowledge that the forest was vacant save for us. It was like the
beginning of a movie or book, - but it was time to go.
The ghost of Frost and Campbell had perhaps guided
us out to the fields. But they would have to wait for another time to speak
again their mentoring language again. Perhaps if they were there somehow, with
physical earth-days complete and now visiting places like forest paths, - they
could talk with one another through the night.
On the way out along the stretch, the rain had
begun for real. Visibility was poor and the world had turned dark gray, watery.
It was a place now to be negotiated slowly, and though adventure and nature’s
journey had its place, home was what was desired.
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