The crisp, spring air envelops me in a blanket of earthy scents that is welcomed in my nostrils. The spongy ground gives way to my lightweight, dull orange and brown hiking boots as I embark on my venture. I push through the masses of tangled underbrush whose thorny branches that reach out to grab me as I pass through and it seems like it is dusk because there is very little light penetrating the gnarled barricade of the dark green thicket. When I reach the other side, my eyes readjust to the golden light that seems to be tinted lime green through the canopy of leaves overhead. This scene is much different than the thicket in every aspect. The knotted brush has been replaced by the towering, silent giants that outstretch their dark brown arms to cover the valley clearing, and the feeling of claustrophobia has been overshadowed by an overwhelming feeling of tranquility. …show more content…
The bottom is filled with groves of rhododendrons with large, dark green leaves and bright pink flowers that seem to cover all of the bushes. But a little farther up the leaf-litter covered hill is why I am here: a remarkable monument, a sizeable boulder juts out from its earthen base. I trek up the gentle slope, the brown, dead leaves crunching under my feet, to reach the flat top of the boulder. As I walk to the edge, I trudge through the puddles of brown, stagnant water that have accumulated in the dimples of the smooth, light grey surface. I look out over the forest floor below me as I dangle my feet over the immense rock face. It is breathtaking. From here I can see the sprawling landscape of the thickly forested valley. I see the clear brook that babbles through the barren path it has eroded and sparkles in the sunlight, the stones lying within are rounded and
I prepared myself for the upcoming adventurous day. I set out along a less-traveled path through the woods leading to the shore. I could hear every rustle of the newly fallen leaves covering the ground. The brown ground signaled the changing of seasons and nature's way of preparing for the long winter ahead. Soon these leaves would be covered with a thick layer of snow. The leaves still clinging to the trees above displayed a brilliant array of color, simultaneously showing the differences of each and the beauty of the entire forest.
I opened my eyes and looked up at the yellow sky. What on Earth is going on? Where am I? I slowly stood up. Mud sloughed off my clothes, plopping into the slimy mud that covered the ground. I looked around. There were muddy hills as far as I could see. Above me, the sky shone yellow-orange, as it does on an early summer day. I turned away and saw something in the distance. Squinting, I could make out the shape of a tree. I glanced behind me; there was nothing but miles and miles of thick mud. I sighed. Might as well explore, I thought as I wandered in the direction of the tree.
The Seven Falls State Park, is a park located in Higganum, Connecticut. It is right along the border of Middletown and Haddam. This side of the town is home to many tree-infested areas and countless streams connecting it to the Connecticut River. The entrance to the park is off of Saybrook Road. The parking lot takes up about a quarter of the land, which makes me think of this as more of a commuter lot than anything. The parking lot is made from black gravel and is gated by recycled telephone poles. As you park your car, you immediately can tell it is Winter. The air is crisp, showing my breath as I cough from seasonal allergies. I immediately throw my hands into the pocket of my hoodie, bow my head, and hop over the fence to the field. As I stop and scan the land i realize how dead it is.
The view was beautiful from up there. You overlooked the snow covered floor of the canyon. You looked over to see reddish brown rock and the trees that looked to be about two feet tall.
It was 12:00 at night, but I was still wide awake. I was anxious for the trip that was in store for me. The next morning I drove to the airport and took a flight to Colorado. I rented a car and drove to Red Cliffs lodge in Moab, Utah. Moab is a dry, desert town in Utah located right next to Canyonlands national park where I would spend most of my time. Right as I got out of the car I could see the beautiful canyonlands scenery. The gigantic cliffs of the island in the sky loomed over the lodge. The blue waters of the Colorado river ran behind the lodge. My room was spacious and had a great view of the cliffs. The best part of the room was the window right above my bed. That night I fell asleep gazing at a full moon and a sky full of stars.
As I traverse the overgrown meadow, the impressible soil sticks to my worn shoes. It is dark, chalky, and alluvial. From it, life has flourished, unhindered by barriers of concrete and asphalt. The grass is coarse, and high reaching; the spruce trees tower solemnly. They are sentinels, guarding the ravine from the commotion of the city. They offer protection from any unwelcome reminders of the pandemonium and instability that await me upon my return to civilization. Beyond the ravine is an endless mixture of harsh, discordant noise. There is a steady sprawl of vehicles, construction sites, and sirens. Cement and rebar dominate the landscape. Everywhere, people hurry frantically, impatiently, overwhelmingly – all in an attempt to fulfill their
Dani and I stand in the sun waiting for the “men” to catch up. The view was worth Quill’s whining and navigating through the snow. The breeze catches in the bright green and gold of new Aspen leaves whispering around the lake. The Pine trees scent the air and bask in the sun to steal its warmth from the forest below. The trees are a dark canopy along our path permitting only a few patches of the raised finely mulched trail to a beam or two of sun. Framed like a photo three pencil lead gray peaks rise above a lower sweeping curve of pines. They look close enough to walk over the ridge and touch them. Boulders precariously cling to the side of the mountains. The perfect deep blue early summer sky is the perfect backdrop.
Imagine walking down an ancient path amidst a forest of tangled and twisted trees, some of which have existed since before a time even great grandparents can remember. The air echoes with sounds of life, and the fragrance is that of cedar or juniper… or something not quite either. The living things that dwell here, bridge a gap in time that many are totally unaware of and for the reasons about to be explained, may never become so. The beauty that surrounds this place is unexplainable in the tongue of man, yet its presence can be felt by all who choose to behold it. At least for now…
With stress on my mind and a cookie in my hand, I headed towards the wooded area behind her home. At the beginning of the trail, there was an old rotting tire swing barely hanging onto a low-hanging branch. The extensive amount of muddy puddles and the surrounding damp grass made me hesitant to follow through with my grandmother’s suggestion; the mountain of homework that waited for me back at home convinced me to continue. Trees towered over me, adding to the existing weight of stress that sat upon my shoulders, as I carefully maneuvered around the biggest puddles, beginning to become frustrated. Today was a terrible day to go for a walk, so why would my grandmother suggest this? Shaking my head in frustration, I pushed forward. The trail was slightly overgrown. Sharp weeds stabbed my sides every few steps, and I nearly tripped over a fallen tree branch. As the creek barely came into view, I could feel the humidity making my hair curly and stick to the sides of my face. After stopping to roll up the ends of my worn blue jeans, I neared the end of the trail. Bright sunlight peeked through the branches and reflected off the water. The sun must have come out from behind a cloud, seeing as it now blinded me as I neared the water. A few minutes passed by before I could clearly see
Her spry, Timberland-clad foot planted itself upon a jagged boulder, motionless, until her calf muscles tightened and catapulted her small frame into the next stride. Then Sara's dance continued, her feet playing effortlessly with the difficult terrain. As her foot lifted from the ground, compressed mint-colored lichen would spring back into position, only to be crushed by my immense boot, struggling to step where hers had been. My eyes fixated on the forest floor, as fallen trees, swollen roots, and unsteady rocks posed constant threats for my exhausted body. Without glancing up I knew what was ahead: the same dense, impenetrable green that had surrounded us for hours. My throat prickled with unfathomable thirst, as my long-empty Nalgene bottle slapped mockingly at my side. Gnarled branches snared at my clothes and tore at my hair, and I blindly hurled myself after Sara. The portage had become a battle, and the ominously darkening sky raised the potential for casualties. Gritting my teeth with gumption, I refused to stop; I would march on until I could no longer stand.
A cigarette butt lies next to my foot, still emitting a trace of smoke. Nearby on the dusty asphalt a pigeon waddles self-consciously, bobbing its head as if pecking the air for some invisible food. A squirrel churrs a threat to his brother, challenging him to romp.
We took off down a path covered softly with moss and tiny pink flowers. Off to the side of the path were endless green trees and pants all nestled together to make one beautiful piece of art. After a while, we reached a sparkling, clear brook. It was about twelve feet deep and nearly three feet deep. The path wound right along side the water. Down the brook a ways, we came to a deep water hole where the fish danced in the swirling current. I noticed the brook was beginning to flow a little faster now, and I could hear the steady, rushing noise of the water falling over the cliffs that lied ahead. We walked to the cliff's edge to look over at the crystal clear lagoon that lay below us. The falls dropped about thirty feet down before it met the pool of water below. To the sides of the waterfall were moss-covered rocks, ferns and other green plants, growing from the crevices of the cliffs.
The visual surrounding the lake was perceived before the mountains was beautiful and serene. The lavender flowers near the water mirroring the colossal mountains smelled of spring. The sunset illuminated the sky making it purple and orange. The huge rocks were faultless and could be used for sitting and thinking. The warm breeze reassured that springtime was near. The lake was ideal for swimming, it was so clear. The cabins around the lake were perfect for summertime with family and friends. The clouds looked impeccable as they were angled over the mountains, their rectangular shapes resembled fluffy pillows. The snow had almost completely melted off the mountain in the distance. The environment was well needed for break within a busy life.
I wandered leisurely along the shadowy paths, enjoying the peaceful surroundings. With only the songs of birds for company, I felt completely isolated from the crowds and traffic as I walked over the deep carpet of leaves. It had begun to rain a litt le when I first started my journey. However, small patches of sunshine soon began to filter through the giant oaks, promising that the rest of may day would be pleasant.
It’s a beautiful morning, as my group of friends and I wake up, we hear the pounding and the thrashing of the water slamming on the moss covered granite rock, I go down the eroded leaf covered pathway to fetch water just like I would do every morning, the sun had just begun to rise, the mixture of scarlet red, orange, and a bleach-like yellow beaming against the hurried water of the river that led into the waterfall shone like flakes of gold floating on top of the whitening water. The serene environment of the surrounding rocks overlooking the waterfall, the ambience of water clashing against the granite, and the aroma of the white pine filling the forest is an awe inspiring experience to all who dare make their way down the narrow and lengthy