We were in a cottage in the middle of the woods, far from the main house up the mountain from us on a narrow, winding, one-way road. It was the end of June when the days are long, so after unpacking and dinner, we went for a walk.
We saw no marked paths nearby, so we walked along the road, being careful to look out for cars and to jump to the side when one passed. The drivers gave us angry or startled looks, like we weren’t supposed to be there.
And we weren’t. On our hike the next day, we discovered the paths that walkers are supposed to take. Signs clearly warned: WALKERS MUST USE PATHS, NOT THE AUTO ROAD.
But that night we walked the road, and we came across some trails, following them each a short way to see where they led. We also found a sand quarry and other intersecting trails that we thought might lead to the mountain house at the top of the hill. At least I thought that, and wanted to keep going to see if we could find it.
My daughter said, “Are you trying to make us have an adventure like you and Adrian used to have?”
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Adrian and I often took walks in the woods near dusk, no matter where we lived: Tallahassee, Florida; Morehead, Kentucky; Ithaca, New York. Often, we would get lost and then wonder if we’d find our way out before dark. Usually we had no water or flashlight. Certainly no cell phone.
These misadventures were a challenge, and we’d be very pleased with ourselves when we finally found our way. We’d laugh about the experience later over dinner and a glass of wine.
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I miss those adventures.
But my daughter and granddaughter were not about to have one of them with me on unmarked trails crisscrossing a mountain we were not familiar with.
“We can try this tomorrow,” said my daughter. “Not tonight.”
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Last May when I visited the Greensprings Natural Cemetery in Newfield, New York, I knew it would be the ideal place for Adrian to have his final adventure. We found a gravesite far from the road, near the forest, between several trees.
When out-of-town family tromped through the mud to get to his grave on the day of the burial, everyone agreed that Adrian would have approved our choice.
He never got to see the cemetery while he was alive, but we did talk about it. “If that’s where you’re going to be buried,” he said, “that’s what I want, too.”
My plot is right next to his.
In the Natural Cemetery our bodies will decompose, become part of the surrounding earth, and eventually nurture other life.
