Mt. Hoevenburgh Reflections


How many spider weeks does it take to rebuild a web? Will they start repairs just as soon as my skin breaks through their fortress walls? Will they try again, the trail they fight. Nature has a magical way of repairing herself and persevering. The spiders begin again. Spring flowers roll out their carpet of the wood as soon as sun tickles their petals and snowmelt soaks their root. The birds, they don’t sleep in. In nature, you burst to be alive. Even under the adverse conditions of human impact, she toils on. She still offers up her beauty, because it’s all she knows, to carry on as our poison penetrates and threatens every ounce of Her carefully constructed balance. As I reflect over South Meadow, my thoughts through to Indian Pass, I’m terrified of the day when She can’t take it anymore. Her mechanisms so broken, that even the trilliums can’t find the courage to bloom. I fear we’re already here, but that She’s too tough for everyone to take notice. Thank you Hoeveyburgh, alone for sunrise: a constant reminder and a conscious effort to be more like Her and less like me.

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