It’s been 20 years since the several mile drive up the rough and rocky mountain trail, bumping and creaking on rutted washed-out dirt road, curving alongside a steep drop to the creek below. Once the motors are silenced and the backpags are in place, the hike begins, up through the forest, birdcalls and the sounds of water running down through rocks. The sunlight filters down through the trees, creating interesting patterns and shadows. The water pools are crystal clear, and ice cold. Yup, it’s been 20 years and everything is exactly as I remember it. The meadow is neither bigger nor smaller… just that burst of open sunlight and the first glimpse of the mountain lake through the trees. The air was sweet and clean, and the sounds of nature and a few humans was all that could be heard that day. When I was young, this was like holy ground, in many ways. Dad would stop us and say “shhhh… listen.” And we would hold our breath to hear the sound of creation for just a few moments. Then it was on to our favorite swimming rock across the lake, where the goodness of mountain pies over a fire awaited. It was good to be back.
I was in New York this past week and it was brilliant. I spent time with Mom, Sara and the kids, Gram, Dad and Chris, and Robert came with me. We hiked mountains and swam in clear cold water, explored ancient cemeteries, drove to the top of Sacandaga, walked all over Saratoga, painted a kitchen, remembered stories, discussed the end times ’til late into the night, and experienced the power of Niagara Falls. All in all, one good way to spend a week.
Gallery I – Sara’s, Mom’s, Sacandaga, Saratoga>>
Gallery II – The Trip to the Mountains >>
Gallery III – Niagara Falls >>