“Maybe its just my mental state, but I feel like I have too much on my plate. So I picked out some outerwear, of wool & down, plus insulated rubber boots, & set a modest goal, going south on the Catamount Trail with a few hours yet, before dark. Yet, it was dark. A murky daylight, with little brightness to it, and an unsettling stillness. On such a day, moss becomes electric. Little else in the woods is outspoken. As I wedged my feet between boulders, or sunk into muck, or sat, gratefully, on hunks of quartz & granite the size of cars, my hackles buzzed. Gently, cooperatively, in alignment with a mission of discovery, but, none-the-less, on radar high alert. Merely a spy in Oberon’s army, perhaps. Why, if two suns had suddenly appeared in the sky, I’d have been only mildly surprised. So when I left the trail to follow the gurgling & rushing, and began squishing through clefts of captured water to find the origin of that water, well, you understand me. From that waterfall, I climb up a steep slope, under the mountain I believe they call “Little Grant”. You learn things around here, in drips and drabs. Finding what’s left of the snow is like a sport. I fall into a revery. Way up here the sump of mountain rock, pools around the headwaters. I’ve collapsed on a soft bed of lichen, spreading generously atop an outcropping of solid stone. A spray of taller club mosses waves fronds or flags, which I interpret celebrations of “the now”.. Plants, humans, we do have jokes between us, which I know, is hard to fathom but it’s true. And to be frank, I’ve been thinking about bear dens, and where they might be, and saying to myself I won’t come up here in early spring. Yes, doing things that aren’t recommended may actually ignite exploration. I’m lying back onto something soft, under a cloudy, featureless sky. Under tree limbs, more accurately, mostly deciduous, but dormant & very naked at the moment. Not for the first time, I’m aware that “on earth, as it is in heaven” is not just some empty phrase. No, it’s an incredibly profound affirmation ringing out at the intersections of physical reality & cosmic dust. Who knew? I sit up, and peer intently into a pool of submerged leaves: dark star-matter in a watery grave. Here, in death, blessing the water, I feel so much vitality. The spring water flows freely out of the ground, caught in natural cups & saucers. It soaks in and radiates the primal forest and all its illuminations. The stream is just a secret Santa sending dreams to the dreamer. Like the twigs that fall into its swirling, cold bubbles. I watch as they’re swept away. We used to talk. You used to bare your soul. I’ve been trying to reach you, but I’m not going to force it. There’s so much more to all of this. The world stage is darkening Time is growing short. Can you overcome your delirium about what you thought you knew?”
