Another American Adventure: the sunken garden trail

Saturday, April 27, 2013

the sunken garden trail

An amazingly beautiful spring day, early this morning we headed up to Moraine State Park for a hike around the sunken garden. We had the trail to ourselves, then a picnic lunch at the lakeside. Such a palpable quietness there.

This is the sunken garden.

This is the bridge that Jubilee fell off of. Her eyesight is not good anymore and she can't seem to be able to judge distances. Anyway, she enjoyed the swim.

Full of stickers. Jubilee is always interested in what I am photographing. I was worried that she would walk across this and then we would have a lame dog to carry back to the car ...

We could smell these "blossoms".

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"In those first days, people said, a squirrel could run the long length of Pennsylvania without ever touching the ground. In those first days, the woods were white oak and chestnut, hickory, maple, sycamore, walnut, wild ash, wild plum, and white pine. The pine grew on the ridgetops where the mountains' lumpy spines stuck up and their skin was thinnest.

"The wilderness was uncanny, unknown. Benjamin Franklin had already invented his stove in Philadelphia by 1753, and Thomas Jefferson was a schoolboy in Virginia; French soldiers had been living in forts along Lake Erie for two generations. But west of the Alleghenies in western Pennsylvania, there was not even a settlement, not even a cabin. No Indians lived there, or even near there.

"Wild grapevines tangled the treetops and shut out the sun. Few songbirds lived in the deep woods. Bright Carolina parakeets - red, green, and yellow - nested in the dark forest. There were ravens then, too. Woodpeckers rattled the big trees' trunks, ruffed grouse whirred their tail feathers in the fall, and every long once in a while a nervous gang of empty-headed turkeys came hustling and kicking through the leaves - but no one heard any of this, no one at all."

Annie Dillard, An American Childhood.