Atualizado: 19 de Fev de 2020
An escape was calling.
With summer halfway spent and cooler weather just around the corner, there was a desire, a need to escape the norm and experience something. Something different.
Unlike winter when this "different" sinks its claws into my psyche and pulls me towards warmer climates, this time, there was a desire to dive deeper into the familiar.
Less than a week later, I awoke to the crow of a rooster.
I was in Lovetsville, Virginia. A quaint rural town about one hour and a short bridge over the Potomac away. A town where things move a little slower and to some, a little backwards. A town where the roads are dominated by farm trucks. Where a confederate flag serves as the patch that holds together the busted jeans of a dying community.
Lovetsville is undeniably country.
Where in the summer, the foliage is thick, bright green, and casts a shadow over the flower-lined trails. Were the vegetation is all consuming and encroaches on civilization as if to say "we're taking it back." Vines, branches, new growth, a labyrinth, a maze to be solved by those looking for adventure.
Each insect a storyteller as they scurry along the dirt, bravely climbing nature's skyscrapers.
Water calm, stagnant, reflects the sky, the trees, the birds. Tires, bottles, rope, and bad decisions litter the floor of the inlet. A reminder of humanity's mistakes. Trails lead infinitely towards a disappearing horizon, a scar. As the sun sets, the forest darkens. Fingers of light break through the leaves, creating magical rays, spotlights, which, in patches, draw attention towards the verdant undergrowth and fiercely yellow black-eye Susans.
Nostalgia bleeds from the hearts of locals who yearn for the prosperity of days passed. The red, flashing lights of the railroad signal a reminder. There is no crossing, there is no returning to yesteryear. Each clack of the train a surrendering beat of this bleeding heart. A blur.
A bell tolls.
As the trail continues, it winds upwards, touching the sky. There is no going back.
The stairway a struggle, an internal battle to be lost or won with each step. There is no going back.
The crest a victory in this uphill battle. The wanderer becomes the champion.
The sun appears, uncensored. Light floods the trail. With newfound confidence, the journey continues, presenting the majesty of nature. The wind blows, carrying with it a quiet, peaceful calm. Happiness. Satisfaction. Finding oneself with each blink of the eye, each breath. Finding the beauty in the little things.
And eventually, the big things. A unadulterated, infinite, sweeping view.
The drive home was more than transport, it was a journey, a reflection. A time to remember the people, places, and feelings of the past few days.
But with each blink of the eye, each breath, a detail lost. Faces, views, and feelings blur. Had I forgotten or were these memories merely manufactured fragments of an active imagination?
It felt real.
But maybe...maybe it was just a dream.
Camera: Canon Sure Shot Z115
Film: Kodak Gold 200
When : August 2019
Where: Lovetsville, VA + Frederick County, MD