We continue our Corona-time ritual of taking our weekly hike. Only this time, we bring gloves, garbage bags and a claw utensil with us. Frank needs six (6) service hours to advance to the Boy Scouts of America (BSA) rank of Life. He’ll earn three (3) of them by cleaning up a trail that we hike.
We arrive at the trailhead for New York’s Long Path, in the northeastern portion of Harriman State Park that adjoins Bear Mountain State park. Scattered litter lay on the ground all around the parking lot, as well as along a side trail some distance from the Long Path trailhead, itself. He quickly fills the two garbage bags we brought with us. Other people’s lack of self-control produces a “garbage mine”for my son, but a blight on the land that serves as our region’s own natural treasure.
from a spring breeze
Our service concluded, we hike along a footpath until we reach the red blazers marking the trail that eventually runs along side Turkey Hill Lake. The descending sun hangs above the western hills surrounding the lake as we begin to walk along side it. Wind-driven ripples spread to and fro across the pristine water. The sparkles of that late afternoon sun waver with every one of those ripples. No control, no problem: a masterpiece of sensual delight remains.
the underbrush we crush
to social distance
We make our way back after reaching the other side. I nurse a sore knee and a sudden lack of breath–always a startling experience during these pestilence-bitten days. But I stop to listen to a rhythmic thumping, as water laps against a rock jutting well into the lake. There is a calm harmony there, a whispered reassurance that carasses a troubled soul under trial.
a dog looks one way
It is the only Easter Lily of this season. “This too shall pass,” and the passing will come when it comes. There will be a time to savor the radiant white of sunlit lillies. But for now, the experienced epiphanies of hiking Turkey Hill lake will do.
the Corona test site
with fewer patients