8am on a chilly Saturday morning. The air is clear, the blue sky beckons to me through the lace curtains of my bedroom window. It promises to be a glorious day, one that should not be ignored. What better way to thank God for His goodness than to get out in His world and enjoy His creation?
I rouse Drew. He does not believe I am crazy enough to drive all the way to Letchworth State Park just because. How can he know what it is to be given a reprieve? Despite his protests, we pack some apples, pretzels and bottles of water and take off, stopping to retrieve his camera from my office.
It is c-h-i-l-l-y! The grass is coated with frost, the leaves drop from the trees under the weight of a coat of fuzzy white. We follow the Google map directions, finding ourselves on a four lane divided highway, then a wide newly blacktopped main road, turning off into a narrower country road winding our way far from the big city into the mellow hills of the Alleghenys. In the little town of Perry we begin following the park signs and forget the online directions. People who live nearby are much more likely to know the best ways.
I am surprised to find there is an attendant at the gate, still collecting entrance fees. I thought state parks stopped that on Labor Day. Oh, well, no matter. Its worth it to gad about in 14,000+ acres of wildland, especially with the vistas that have already appeared as we approached the park entrance. The attendant was very helpful, gave us maps and advice about where to start.
Drew read the trail information. He wanted to walk the quarter mile trail and be done. I suggested he look for something about 2 miles, which was the same distance as walking to work and back. We compromised on a one mile trail, and would do a second one if Drew could be persuaded. I had no doubt that he would change his mind.
As we headed toward the place where the trail started, we stopped at several lookout points, and took pictures of the gorgeous fall scenery. It was so cold that I put ALL the layers on - timmie shirt, tee shirt, sweater, leather jacket *and* hoodie, wrapped with a wool scarf and hat and gloves! Drew was awed by the chasm that dropped away beneath us to the thin ribbon of water below. No wonder they call it the Grand Canyon of the East! Here and there you could hear a bird calling. Hunters' trucks were parked everywhere (bow hunting season just began - that's why the attendant directed us to the south end of the park).
We finally agreed not to stop at any more lookouts or we would never get to the trails. After all, it was a good 20 mile drive from one end of the park to the other. We took a brief jaunt through the visitor center and gift shop (mostly to use the bathrooms - the thought of an outhouse was none too appealing).
At last we parked near the Glen Iris Inn and started off towards the Trout Pond. Up stone steps to the cabins, then across a stone bridge to the turn off. We passed the ancient cemetery, here on this land long before the park, and stopped for a minute at the old one room schoolhouse. It was fascinating to realize what school must have been like back then - certainly nothing like today!
All along the hike, we selected pretty fall leaves to send Kelly, my grand daughter. I was amazed at how *many* different types of trees we saw - elm, oak, maple, birch, pine, chestnut, beech, some I didn't know, and several different types of each kind of tree. You don't see that in the big city! Drew started schuffling through the leaves that lay eight inches deep beneath the trees alongside the dirt road. In minutes he had a whole pile collected, and gleefully jumped into them - something I have not done since childhood. We spent a good half hour playing in the leaves, having a ball.
Then we managed to tear ourselves away and wandered another hundred feet to the trout pond. It was a perfect mirror, and Drew took pictures of the reflection of autumn colors in the water. He experimented with throwing a stone into the pond, and taking pictures of the reflection affected by the ripples. He skipped some stones and got multiple ripples going until the pond looked like an exotic checkerboard with brilliant colors waving about.
Finally, we selected a trail and began the real hike. It was shady and quiet underneath the trees. You could hear acorns crash through the branches and plop onto the soft forest floor. We were schuffling leaves and chattering away happily when suddenly, we saw three deer standing stock still in the brush beside the path. We pulled up short and Drew carefully took pictures, walking closer and closer until they raised their white tails and bounded away into the shadows.
We had barely whispered while they were standing there. It was as if they were watching us while we were watching them. We encountered several more small groups of deer - those smart enough to know that the hunters would not come this far south in the park and that the pond was still a safe place to drink (and eat the berries on the nearby bushes - a ripe feast).
We came to a new path and followed that, aware of how life might have been for early settlers in this vast country. We must have walked a good two miles before we turned back and found the yellow 3 path to the trout pond, ambled back through our pile of leaves, climbed down the stone steps to the parking lot where the coy pond was spraying a fountain of water high into the air, letting a rainbow dance on its spray.
Weary and knowing we needed to get back, we couldn't resist the short walk to the upper and middle falls, Drew snapping shots as we climbed the scary metal bridge accompanied by the roar of the water. I had come to this very place in the park when I was a young girl with our youth group. I remember dabbling my feet in the water where the slate tables make the water shallow and slow (and getting a sunburn in the bargain!). Drew is surprised that so little has changed in fifty years!
We are happy, tired, and refreshed all at once as we head back to the Perry exit. "Really, Mom, we have to do this again. Next summer let's spend two weeks here." He happily plans away as I smile. Yes, it is good to give thanks to God for the wonder of His earth. A body needs to reconnect with the grandeur and majesty, the quiet and peace.
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