the adolescent forest

 the forest, starting over

the forest in this part of the low valley

has the unruly brashness of the adolescent,

the beeches and hemlock have held continuity with the old forest,

though both have now been assaulted by change,

the beech have just grown old

and the biggest near us have succumbed,

passing away from asserting endurance and dominance,

except for the hemlocks saved by the national park service with insecticide,

the hemlock have all too often

given up their lives to the attacking adelgid:

fallen, rotted, blocked trails for a time,

then nine years ago this week

a great fire swept through these woods

and we lost much of the forest,

weakened trees keep falling in the great winds

 too often prevalent here,

the forest is starting over,

new growth on the hills around us

shouts to us to not attempt 

passing through the crowd of young trees and bushes 

jostling toward the sun,

brambles of blackberries and other brush opportunists

bedevil both trails and off-trail,

the change is fascinating but I find little comfort in it.

by Henry H. Walker

November 29, ‘25