Living on Cape Cod, especially in the summertime, is bittersweet. This is a huge tourist area in the summer and there are more and more people visiting every year….but this is not a diatribe on the infringement of the populace on our natural resources, it is in fact a celebration of the life that flourishes in the midst of it.
In earlier times on “the Cape”, railroad was the main means of commerce and tourism. With the development of highways and infrastructure the railroad fell out of use and a huge leg of it went unused for decades.
In the 1970′s the state began transforming the old rail bed to a bike trail, now commonly known as “The Cape Cod Rail Trail“. It is a wonderful natural resource and passes within a mile of my home. Biking, hiking, rollerblading and even cross country skiing (in season of course) are right at my doorstep.
Cape Cod Rail Trail in Brewster
We do our best to not let the crowds keep us cooped up in the house.
Yesterday, though tired, we felt beckoned to the trail for a walk. The energy of the coming full moon and eclipse have us very energized and full of a nervous, yet positive energy.
Going where the spirit leads most of the time, we are sensitive to the energies of the surrounding landscape. One spot in particular that we pass is in a low lying, swampy area (swampy this year anyway), draws our attention every time we pass it. Sometimes these “calls” are because it is a place where animals bed, or cross paths…but this spot seemed to really be singing out to us yesterday. Susanne and I both got the impression (this time) that the call was because of the history of the spot. Not that we know what that is in particular, but there was a darkness and a sorrow attached to it.
We discussed this for a bit as we continued our walk, and before long we began noticing the abundant life of the trail and the bounty that it brings. As we walked along we began to pick blackberries, (my absolute favorite) using a stick to help bring down some of the higher vines. Our hands, lips and tongues were all stained purple. Growing right under and among the blackberries were a mix of huckleberries and high bush blueberries that weren’t quite ripe yet, but we still enjoyed a few sour bites.
The more we celebrated our berries, the more we noticed along the trail. Not fifty steps further down and there was a small group of black cherry trees….and apple trees. We were giddy with the bounty of harvest that we were experiencing on a stroll down the bike path, almost unbelievable.
Of course, all along the ground, in and amongst the poision ivy and such were mint, lavender and many other edible or medicinal herbs. The very ground was singing out to us.
Just a few more bends in the trail and we came across a grapevine that had entangled itself and grown along with an old, wise and very sturdy pear tree. Now Cape Cod does have “wild grapes” growing over a large portion of it, but this vine that I’m referring to was offering us Concord Grapes. Big, fat, juicy, end of your thumb sized concord grapes. They were amazingingly plump and though slightly tart, still very, very edible.
I got to thinking about how this “farmers harvest” of fruit could happen to be in one place with such diversity, and then it struck me that the trains that had previously used this trailbed sometimes carried tourists (even in the early part of the last century) on sightseeing rides and no doubt offered snacks and beverages on the train. My guess (or intuition) is that on that particualr stretch of railbed (two miles or so) the cooks would possibly scrape the dishes clean….right out the window.
The fruit salad that we enjoyed may actually be the result of pie droppings from an era gone-by.
After feasting on our “fruit delight” we headed off the main trail to one of our favorite “power spots”, a single large rock at the edge of a backwoods kettle hole pond. The land here is rich with Indian history and this particular rock has a very rich energy.
Unfortunately, someone had arrived at the rock before we did, and out of respect we decided to leave that person to their privacy.
Things happen for a reason…as we all know. As we got back onto the Rail Trail and heading back toward home, a shadow passed over the trail. Three more steps revealed a large, mature, red-tailed hawk, that had flown from a tree on one side of the trail to sit atop a tree on the other side of the trail.
The majesty and magnificence of this regal raptor sitting in the top of a 25 foot Juniper was breathtaking. It raised goosebumps and sensitivity.
As you can imagine, the trail was not altogether quiet or secluded. We pointed the bird to a Swedish couple that was riding up behind us on their bikes, and then a family of 6 stopped to see what we were gawking at.
Our hawk stayed right there and studied us studying him.
After a couple of minutes all of the bike riders went on their way and Susanne and I stood there, still admiring this beautiful creature. Just as we were about to continue our walk, we verbally thanked him for his blessing and we had not yet taken our first step when he swooped from his perch and passed about 10 feet directly over our heads. We could hear the beat of his wings and almost feel the down draft from his efforts.
Feeling completely re-energized, we thanked him again for his blessing and continued on toward home.
