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Marcy Dam, Adirondacks, NY. When the view at Marcy Dam looked like this, it was a couple of weeks before Irene. Open spaces are hard to come by on the trail up here, and none matched this in serenity. When the water was glass, it was as if a parallel universe was revealed. I would always stop here to let it satuarate into me. When I close my eyes, I can invoke indescribable beauty that I've seen, stamped indelibly on my soul...places and women whose company I long for. Maybe I looked too hard, thought too much, and was punished for being unworthy. In a rage of anger, in a storm like Irene's, things can change in a matter of hours. Marcy Brook only runs through here as a brook now, the reflection is gone forever, new slides scar the mountains, the change trying to defy my love for it, like a woman who breaks your heart and dares you to hate her. But we process things both as they were and as they are, and it's hard to erase the heart when the heart of it remains. When the rivers stop running, when the mountains crumble to talus, when the forests petrify to stone, and the sky has nothing left to do, I will still close my eyes, and think about you.

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Adirondacks
Marcy Dam, Adirondacks, NY. When the view at Marcy Dam looked like this, it was a couple of weeks before Irene. Open spaces are hard to come by on the trail up here, and none matched this in serenity. When the water was glass, it was as if a parallel universe was revealed. I would always stop here to let it satuarate into me. When I close my eyes, I can invoke indescribable beauty that I've seen, stamped indelibly on my soul...places and women whose company I long for. Maybe I looked too hard, thought too much, and was punished for being unworthy. In a rage of anger, in a storm like Irene's, things can change in a matter of hours. Marcy Brook only runs through here as a brook now, the reflection is gone forever, new slides scar the mountains, the change trying to defy my love for it, like a woman who breaks your heart and dares you to hate her. But we process things both as they were and as they are, and it's hard to erase the heart when the heart of it remains. When the rivers stop running, when the mountains crumble to talus, when the forests petrify to stone, and the sky has nothing left to do, I will still close my eyes, and think about you.
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