[GONEON] I climbed Bear Mountain today (day hike.)
The long forest grasses on the slope had been patted down by the rain,
like the hair of a child that the parents lovingly comb before a big
event. Past several hundred feet of carved stone steps, a
lightning-downed eastern red oak, and lots of blueberry bushes, we run
across a surprise.
A 5-foot-long black rat snake move beside the trail, at an
advantageous vantage point a few feet up a slope, watching us, its
tongue flicking in and out, sensing the air for any important
chemicals. The hikers walk past it and warn those behind them, just
in case they are afraid.
“Is it poisonous?”
“No. Isn't it beautiful?”
Nobody is afraid. Each hiker stops and stares at it, fascinated by the
closeness to something wild which we seem to be programmed to fear.
Several minutes and many hundred feet of climbing later, there is a
tiny white snake passing through sloping green mounds. I am on top of
the mountain, looking south in the Hudson Valley, and this Metro North
train passing along the east side of the bank looks so lost and
harmless, a small animal seeking the slowest mouse beside the vastness
of the valley. I smile, loving the effect of seeing this usually loud
and self-sure artifact of city life humbled.
I photograph it, hoping that the image of the train will visually match
the photo I took of the rat snake earlier. Their curves and angles
matching would be perfect poetry, but it's unlikely.
like the hair of a child that the parents lovingly comb before a big
event. Past several hundred feet of carved stone steps, a
lightning-downed eastern red oak, and lots of blueberry bushes, we run
across a surprise.
A 5-foot-long black rat snake move beside the trail, at an
advantageous vantage point a few feet up a slope, watching us, its
tongue flicking in and out, sensing the air for any important
chemicals. The hikers walk past it and warn those behind them, just
in case they are afraid.
“Is it poisonous?”
“No. Isn't it beautiful?”
Nobody is afraid. Each hiker stops and stares at it, fascinated by the
closeness to something wild which we seem to be programmed to fear.
Several minutes and many hundred feet of climbing later, there is a
tiny white snake passing through sloping green mounds. I am on top of
the mountain, looking south in the Hudson Valley, and this Metro North
train passing along the east side of the bank looks so lost and
harmless, a small animal seeking the slowest mouse beside the vastness
of the valley. I smile, loving the effect of seeing this usually loud
and self-sure artifact of city life humbled.
I photograph it, hoping that the image of the train will visually match
the photo I took of the rat snake earlier. Their curves and angles
matching would be perfect poetry, but it's unlikely.