The word Steingrund appears in the title of a post that recollects a visit to Desolation Wilderness 25 years ago.
Reminiscing today about a visit to Turkey Run State Park 10 years ago let’s me use another word from the same poem.
The word exposure includes visibility, fragility and presence, and the ominously dark landscape doesn’t seem to convey this, until you notice the cracks, traces of violence that happened here many thousand years ago, unmeasurable for us.
Patient streams have smoothed the rock and created paths that can be walked best upstream, against time.
Trees hold on to the rocks with roots like fingers for decades, while unknown plants seem to be ready to flee any minute.
This continues the series of revisits of my year 1993/94 in California. Very rarely a landscape hits you with such a force that you are left with a lifelong desire to return.
The climb from Lake Tahoe to Mount Tamrac is through lush forests, and nothing but the weathered trees prepares you for the view from the top.
In the front is Gilmore lake where we had memorable swim, and further behind follow Susie Lake, and, already in the granite, almost invisibly, Lake Aloha.
The landscape gradually transitions from impossibly green vegetation to gray and white granite rocks. The latter
are, however, not steep and ragged but smooth and almost plane. No invitation to hell could be sweeter.
The heroes of this place are the trees. They struggle on without almost no soil, withstand harsh weather, and even when long dead, remain.