I was more than a little uncomfortable yesterday beginning the hike up Utley Hill alongside Columbia Lake Brook. “Walking it Back” suggests undoing a position, an action, or a decision – and in this case, the vivid memory that needs reversal lies in my own head. I’ve avoided this particular Joshua’s Trust area for ten years now. That day freaked me out. But you know what? “Get moving” is what they tell trauma survivors, and while mine hasn’t been a terrible emotional burden to carry (a bitter physical one with some minor PTSD), what’s better than walking for healing?
Things have changed in a decade. The expanded power line corridor is almost hidden now, with overhanging trees and tall underbrush. Good. I sure didn’t want to see it. And imagine those 19th century wagon road builders thinking ahead to my late July 2022 walk and laying this bridge of huge flat stones. A stone bridge is a fine metaphor…I think I’ll cross it. There we go. OK, now onward.
The ravine is steep, and evidence of historic hard work is everywhere. Dams, mills, sluices, water wheels, sweat and accidents, joys and chagrin; all are washed away or entombed in the rocks. Vanished, but there are visible scars. Plenty of evidence that things come to an end. Bad things as well as good ones. The brook runs through them and over them, on and on, unheeding.
For 125 acres stuck between a town park and a busy beach on Columbia Lake, on a hot Saturday, Utley Hill Preserve is remarkably quiet. A gusty wind helps, and keeps away voracious deerflies. My mind instinctively focuses on the path forward, on whatever I can see, sense, learn. There hops a baby toad, the size of my pinky fingernail. A drought survivor – so far. Swallowtails investigate Cardinal Flowers up and down the sun-filled glen. The brook burbles. Columbia Lake Brook runs south to north, an unusual orientation, thus summer daylight falls deeply in here. One cheery cicada calls up the hill somewhere. At a swamp overlook, there is only one bush between me and a Great Blue Heron when we see each other. It’s a tossup who is more startled. I get it: I’m living in the moment. I was hoping this is what would happen. This is a good, redeeming walk.
George Jacobi