Walking in NH
Oct. 4th, 2006 12:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
magidLast Shabbat there was time for lots of walking. I was staying at a B&B less than two miles from the event site, to be able to get there conveniently. (Though it would've been cool to stay where other people were, it was too far to walk.)
Friday I got in later than planned (*grrrr* to all the traffic in MA), so the walk to the site was after candlelighting. The road skirts Lake Sunnapee, so I could see the light fading off the lake, the sun having already set. One or two lights were visible from houses around the lake, but otherwise it was just the last touches of light reflecting in the water, silhouetted trees, and the gathering gloaming. An excellent antidote for a stressful drive, especially because it was noticeably chillier than in Boston, making me feel more awake and alive.
Late that night I walked back to the B&B. The same route I'd taken before, but feeling very different. The sky was covered in stars, millions of them visible without the light pollution of the city. I kept looking up, unable to keep gawking at what I wish I could see every night. There were no streetlights, but there was just enough ambient light that the white line at the side of the road glowed a little, so I was able to follow it easily (thinking of an earlier walk in a dark night, through the blackness that was Addis Ababa at night), the sound of the water lapping on the shore. There were some cars infrequently; they felt like spotlights, intrusions.
Shabbat morning I explored in another direction, heading up the major street. I haven't walked along such a high speed road with nothing on it in a long time; I found it difficult to judge distances. On the way back, I found the bog walk I'd heard of, on the Philbrick-Cricenti bog. There used to be a pond here, and now there are plants over the surface, but it's still watery below. There's a boardwalk through parts of the bog, but not a wide, elevated path I've seen other places. Here there were just pairs of boards with cross pieces laid over the surface, to distribute one's weight (rather like skis do). Some of them were already rotting from the water, which seeped up and around when I walked. I tried to keep my feet dry, but it was impossible; there'd been too much rain recently for that. It was lovely being in the middle of a grassed/shrubbed area knowing that why the trees weren't encroaching was all the water below the apparently-steady landscape.
Walking back to the B&B from the bog, I noticed dozens of woolly bear catepillars dead on the side of the road. It was strange; there were none on the other (sunnier, northern) side of the road, then many dead on this side, spaced out over a couple of miles.
Shabbat afternoon I walked back to the event site. It was nice to be out, but had none of the magic of the other walks, even though the lake was right there. (Perhaps because it was no longer an exploration, coupled with the focus on the end rather than the journey.)
Friday I got in later than planned (*grrrr* to all the traffic in MA), so the walk to the site was after candlelighting. The road skirts Lake Sunnapee, so I could see the light fading off the lake, the sun having already set. One or two lights were visible from houses around the lake, but otherwise it was just the last touches of light reflecting in the water, silhouetted trees, and the gathering gloaming. An excellent antidote for a stressful drive, especially because it was noticeably chillier than in Boston, making me feel more awake and alive.
Late that night I walked back to the B&B. The same route I'd taken before, but feeling very different. The sky was covered in stars, millions of them visible without the light pollution of the city. I kept looking up, unable to keep gawking at what I wish I could see every night. There were no streetlights, but there was just enough ambient light that the white line at the side of the road glowed a little, so I was able to follow it easily (thinking of an earlier walk in a dark night, through the blackness that was Addis Ababa at night), the sound of the water lapping on the shore. There were some cars infrequently; they felt like spotlights, intrusions.
Shabbat morning I explored in another direction, heading up the major street. I haven't walked along such a high speed road with nothing on it in a long time; I found it difficult to judge distances. On the way back, I found the bog walk I'd heard of, on the Philbrick-Cricenti bog. There used to be a pond here, and now there are plants over the surface, but it's still watery below. There's a boardwalk through parts of the bog, but not a wide, elevated path I've seen other places. Here there were just pairs of boards with cross pieces laid over the surface, to distribute one's weight (rather like skis do). Some of them were already rotting from the water, which seeped up and around when I walked. I tried to keep my feet dry, but it was impossible; there'd been too much rain recently for that. It was lovely being in the middle of a grassed/shrubbed area knowing that why the trees weren't encroaching was all the water below the apparently-steady landscape.
Walking back to the B&B from the bog, I noticed dozens of woolly bear catepillars dead on the side of the road. It was strange; there were none on the other (sunnier, northern) side of the road, then many dead on this side, spaced out over a couple of miles.
Shabbat afternoon I walked back to the event site. It was nice to be out, but had none of the magic of the other walks, even though the lake was right there. (Perhaps because it was no longer an exploration, coupled with the focus on the end rather than the journey.)
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Date: 2006-10-04 04:44 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-10-04 04:50 pm (UTC)