“We dream in our waking moments, and walk in our sleep.” ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne
This time of the year always reminds me of ‘The Scarlet Letter’ by Nathaniel Hawthorne – the way the sun slants through the changing tree leaves, the way the earth, and its implacable stone and rock, still holds onto some of summer’s warmth. There’s magic and enchantment in the forest at this time – and when the forest is bordered by water, it’s even more entrancing. At some point every few weeks, I find my way to such a leafy scene – to find comfort in solitude, to be by myself, to re-connect with nature in the way that most Virgos need to be connected to the earth.
For this nearby expedition, I needed only to drive to Cohoes to find the waterfalls I’d been wanting to visit for years. Thanks to a severe drought, there was barely a trickle from the might and majesty they typically conjure, but I didn’t mind the quieter and more serene scene. There will be more than enough opportunities for thunderous downfalls and tumultuous waterfalls later this fall. Rain is already on the horizon, and winter is not as far as it seems.
“It contributes greatly towards a man’s moral and intellectual health, to be brought into the habits of companionship with individuals unlike himself, who care little for his pursuits, and whose sphere and abilities he must go out of himself to appreciate.” ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne
When the foliage is still lush and the leaves haven’t yet been ripped from their precious perches, it feels safe on a sunny day. When the leaves start to turn, their coloring sets the sky on fire, matching the brightness of spring’s earliest chartreuse show. It is a beautiful point for reflection – the perfect place to pause in the madness of the current world. There are times when I wonder how I got here – to this specific space and place – and of all that I have lost and gained on that winding journey. I think back to my first forays into the forest behind my childhood home, the way the paths and the trees and the plants felt somehow more familiar than my own bedroom – the cozy comfort of a patch of moss, the hooded cloaks of a stand of May apples, the evocative hide-and-seek game of a clump of Jack-in-the-pulpits. This sort of beauty brings me back to those days, reminding me of our connection to such sacred spaces.
“But there is a fatality, a feeling so irresistible and inevitable that it has the force of doom, which almost invariably compels human beings to linger around and haunt, ghost-like, the spot where some great and marked event has given the colour to their lifetime; and, still the more irresistibly, the darker the tinge that saddens it.” ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne
