May 27, 2019
When The Wild Places Go
By Maryanna Gabriel
Such a sweet spot it had been. An old tree shaded a rocky shelf that was perfect for swimming. My throat caught as I stared at the new Water Processing Plant all built up with concrete and gravel with bulwarks to prevent people accessing the lake. The beautiful old cedar with friendly curved branches was gone. I tried not to weep. If there are places left for us folk seeking the wilder places I don't know where they are without trespassing and my knee is too much of a liability for frolicking over logs and gates in the predawn hours. I am sure you understand. It is such a busy world and there are so many of us. I think of the changes I have witnessed since I came here to this island twenty five years ago (pre-internet imagine!) and I seriously have to shake my head. It is impossible not to feel sad.
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