By Jeffrey Teachout
The trees have parted along the right side of the trail. Opening to a path unmarked by man, a few degraded boards lay over small stagnant mirrors, that show the emptiness of the blue sky. Separating these ponds is done by the works of tiny beavers; as sticks are wedged between fallen trees and large rocks, slowing the flow to barely more than a trickle. Birches and maples frame the distant lake, as if it were an oasis, calling to hikers to wander from the trail and out into the warmth of an early summer’s day. This path is sunlit by the wild stain glass windows, thirty feet above swaying softly in the breeze.
Where the light touches ground, life begins to erupt. Bright green ferns consume all open space that can be found along the right side of this trickling path. Standing tall, farther back from the water is the stark whiteness of the birch trees against the rich browns and greens of the forest. While on the left side, life is as scarce as light. Those who do not require constant attention begin their life here. Shaded by the arms of their parents they wait for the time when they are given space to stand tall.
Among the shade, cherubs can be seen darting from branch to branch. They sing sweet songs of love and happiness to each other as they move about. Some stop at the mirrors to wash away the worries of previous days, creating a ripple in the stillness. Others rush to find warmth in the sunlight on the opposing side of the watery path. Here their songs grow not only in volume, but in enthusiasm. The air is rich not only with the songs of these feathered cherubs, but the pungent smell of serenity lingers heavily. It is a mixture of an earthy hominess and a sweetness of growth. Nature, however, has decided that this spot can only be savored for so long.
As a soft buzzing begins in the depths of one’s mind, the forty pounds of existence comes pulling back as nature is waved away. Before departing back to the journey ahead, the weight of existence is unclipped and placed upon the ground. The location is framed once more, not in the mind though, but in box for safe keeping. As the journey begins again, the call of the cherubs can be heard fading away into the forest. Silence returns and the mind wanders to thoughts of what it means to walk alone. Why was this path chosen? Hopes of clarity are chased after with each step forward. Direction only given by sporadic colored circles, placed long ago upon the trail. Time is lost under the cover of the forest, though it can quickly be found it is not wanted.
Jeff Teachout moved to Paul Smith’s College in the fall to pursue a degree in Environmental Studies. Passionate about nature, studying at Paul Smith’s was an excellent fit. Jeff has been exploring the great outdoors his entire life, from summers camping with family and friends, to quiet hikes alone. He hopes that one day he can join the fight in preserving nature, through any means possible; be it through writing about views he has seen hiking or maybe some Monkey Wrenching. He has found a home for himself within the Paul Smith’s community.