Not all breathtaking views are in far-away places, accessible only by traveling great distances to arenas of nature. While the Grand Canyon is among one of the most beautiful locations in the United States, as is Niagara Falls, finding great beauty in nature doesn’t take much traveling. One can find it even within five minutes from home and maybe even passes by it a hundred times a day without a thought.
Taking a right turn out of my neighborhood and heading into Walden, the smallest town in New York perhaps, I come to a narrow street that doesn't have much to offer but the usual images of a suburban lifestyle. Passing through the town and watching people going about the daily business of living, it would be easy to miss this street. However, making my way down it I arrive at what looks like a small hidden road. The road begins to widen, forming what appears to be a winding pristine carpet of pavement. Uncracked and undamaged from lack of use, the road meanders down to a lake. James Olly Park has a small body of mud-water on a miniature beach. To tell the truth, walking in the sand is like trekking through a minefield. One wrong move and you could tumble over a pile of hidden rocks or freshly speckled white goose poop. Sure is beautiful, isn’t it?
Continuing onto a small path on the opposite side of the park, a small bridge carries over the water. Then finding what appears to be a tunnel to your left, but not a usual tunnel. This one has walls made of tree bark and a ceiling of bending branches forming a canopy above. The sunshine filters in, giving the tunnel an unreal type of glow; a combination of foggy green and liquid gold. When walking deeper into this natural tunnel, time begins to feel like it’s slowing down. The heat of the sun doesn’t entirely reach through the leaves and the air is cool even in the hottest days of the summer. Unable to see where it ends, I would usually be uneasy but the quiet rustling of leaves is soothing. While the trees converse with one another, the sounds of a busy town close by are gone. There are no voices of children playing in the park or of cars on the road. I hear only the subtle conversations among of the leaves, assuring me that I’m safe and encouraging me to continue on. The path travels up a hill now, and suddenly there is sky.
This passage releases to a crest of a small hill and opens to an inviting field of lush grass covering it. I climb to the top of the hill and can see clearly in all directions. Surrounding this field are trees covered with fiery leaves, and I can hear the quiet rippling of the lake at the foot of the hill.
The allure of this place is unmeasurable as I lie on the hill and look backwards into the sky. It’s perfectly blue, with small puffs of clouds scattered across it. Lying down on the soft grass, I watch the clouds rush over me on their way to somewhere new. This is the safest I have ever felt. Is it real? The sky feels so close that I could touch it yet I know it’s monumentally out of reach.
Then suddenly, I feel fear. A sense that if I lean forward just enough, gravity could fail me and falling into the sky seems possible. Perhaps the thought is scary, but the longer I stare the more I want it to happen. The view consumes my brain and looking away just isn’t an option anymore. As I lay there observing, I can’t help but repeat: “This is the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.” It’s not the Grand Canyon or the Niagara Falls, but to me it is better because those places belong to everyone and for the moment this place just belongs to me.
