I love long drives. Within which I can just simply glance over the rolling hills of Geneseo farm land and watch the occasional car zip by as I then wonder where they are heading. To see family, go to work, simply on a drive, going to hike Letchworth State Park, so many options and even some that I cannot fathom. Such complex lives yet nothing as complex as our relationships with the Earth. As I watched the trees pass in the window of the fast moving car I wondered how long they had drank water from our Earth. When were you planted, little one? How many cars have passed by you without a care, old trunk? I think of all these things while music dances around my nineteen year old brain. “Oh, I can’t. Stop you putting roots in my dreamland.” Taylor Swift’s voice rings over the speakers of my friend’s Subaru and I can imagine that old trunk screaming those words in vain as the living lay their concrete roots in his dreamland known as Mother Earth. As the wind tries to whisk the newly budding leaves from his grandfather branches, I know it’s nothing that the air-purifying tree has not felt before, but I wish I could know how much breathable air that one old trunk has supplied to the community and how much longer it will work with such a heavy burden. Some day those trees just might rise up and quit filtering our air because we do not deserve it, or them.
As the vast farmlands morph into small town gas stations and then a large state protected forest I think of how long it has taken humanity to realize we need to take better care of the Earth. The winding roads of Letchworth State Park lead us to a gorgeous miracle of Earth, a waterfall. So much power that showers over the edge of its erosion-shaven rocks. As the water slips down the smooth rocks of the Upper Falls it reaches another fall, the Middle Falls. On-lookers and fans of Letchworth say when looking at the side of the Middle Falls they can see a face within the rocks. How is Earth so graceful it created a monument of us? Even with everything we’ve done and taken advantage of. I was completely verklempt in this moment. I can imagine these slimy rocks, constantly pushed down with the weight of water crashing through, as a metaphor of myself. I see that face in the rocks and wonder how those rocks do not just give up and crumble under the force as I have wanted to do so many times. The face of the falls has reminded me that even when the weight of the world seems to want to crush me, I have the strength to stand my ground and flourish in the environment around me—I am important in a world of concrete. I wonder if that old trunk witnessed such a moment he would feel grateful that even though he is not specifically appreciated, his friends in the forest of Letchworth are for all of their hard work.