Buffalo Valley

As often happens in my now-suburban life, I get called away by so many preoccupations that I end up neglecting the things that nourish my spirit.  It's the middle of September, and my first trek of the month was this past Wednesday.  My life is lived in triage mode, a place of dire urgency and consequences, a place of unending obligations and duties.  And yet, the valley of Buffalo Creek (in the places where they haven't yet fracked it) is beautiful and restorative.  

As a child, you lie under swaying oak trees and dream of growing up: shaving, driving a car.  As an adult, you sit at a computer screen under enormous pressure to produce.  In your haste to get out the door, you've missed a spot shaving, and on the way to work, you nearly plowed into another car because you were in such a panicked hurry.  And there you sit at your computer, doing your best to write something creative and meaningful.  But creativity and meaning come from someplace other than where you spend the bulk of your time.  And instead of "producing," you end up dreaming of being a kid, lying under a swaying oak and staring up at the dark green tangle of leaves.  So lush.  So dense.  Touched by the very stuff of legend, of Robin Hood, and the Green Man of yore, and the Knights of the Round Table.  Escape is the new goal...just as it was the old one.  But when even your so-called escapes are planned like another quick obligation to fulfill, you cannot blame them for not producing the desired results.  It's like never sleeping except to take occasional catnaps; you cannot expect to function normally.  

Ah, but this stream valley is lovely.  A farmer has cultivated the state game lands here.  Looks like beans.  The land must be leased, like the rest of the public lands in our whorish so-called "Commonwealth."  The stream in places is very deep with good swimming holes.  It's got rocky cliffs and shallow spots for wading. 

I went to the anti-frack conference in Philadelphia earlier this month.  The flooding on the way back nearly left me stranded.