A Meditation on Goldenrod in the Green Allegany

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is grandeur there. There is scale and great beauty. What I didn’t expect was that place had so much comfort for me there as well.<figure id="e90a"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*FAqKfOTf4yMs4nowiW-Icg.jpeg"><figcaption>Photograph by John Brantingham</figcaption></figure>I felt at home wandering the paths or even hiking off trail to find some isolation behind some lonely arete or on the banks of a lake. I felt safe there, comfortable among the trees and bears, not having to think about anything but where I was and what I was doing. I became used to the rhythm

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of the seasons.Part of that rhythm is the goldenrod flowers that come up along the roads and trails, usually individually, but sometimes in clusters. Up in Allegany State Forest, I descend out of the hills and onto the banks of a lake to find a field of them, more goldenrods than I have ever seen at one place and time.They’ve come back and remind me that I am a part of the rhythms of this earth. They let me know that I am not alone. I am part of something bigger than myself whether that is under the giant sequoias or the greenest birches of the Allegany.</article></body>

A Meditation on Goldenrod in the Green Allegany

Photograph by John Brantingham

I find myself breathing relief for a worry I didn’t know I had. It is a relief to find that here in the east, there are goldenrods as well.

I just moved east from California to western New York. For nearly forty years, I spent all my summers living in a van or a tent and wandering Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks. There is grandeur there. There is scale and great beauty. What I didn’t expect was that place had so much comfort for me there as well.

Photograph by John Brantingham

I felt at home wandering the paths or even hiking off trail to find some isolation behind some lonely arete or on the banks of a lake. I felt safe there, comfortable among the trees and bears, not having to think about anything but where I was and what I was doing. I became used to the rhythm of the seasons.

Part of that rhythm is the goldenrod flowers that come up along the roads and trails, usually individually, but sometimes in clusters. Up in Allegany State Forest, I descend out of the hills and onto the banks of a lake to find a field of them, more goldenrods than I have ever seen at one place and time.

They’ve come back and remind me that I am a part of the rhythms of this earth. They let me know that I am not alone. I am part of something bigger than myself whether that is under the giant sequoias or the greenest birches of the Allegany.