I had a chance to ride again today. Velvet and I went alone up Brown Mountain. There were a lot of people there despite the fact that the forest is still officially closed. For some reason I was particularly amazed by how the landscape has changed in the last few months. The road is almost completely washed away now, the massive 12 foot rock and concrete walls that seemed permanent have literally sank into the ravine and vanished under the water, and the hillsides are completely green. It’s hardly recognizable from what it was like in the summer.
Back then there was just a trickle of water that ran by the trail. The mountain was brown and bare with black trees peppering the landscape. You couldn’t see the wind blow because there was nothing left to sway in the breeze. The asphalt on the road was still partially intact. It gave the appearance of being an underfunded and ill-maintained road. Now it just looks like a trail.
I used to tell Robert that it was a waste of time to take pictures of places and things. Things don’t change, only people do. When you go back to look at pictures, it’s the people who look so different. Now I think I was wrong about that. Things do change. Cars change, clothes change, buildings change, hillsides change. It’s all impermanent.
The kids are chasing Robert. He ran outside. I saw him sneak around the yard but Asher didn’t. She came in here triumphant and smiling, “I KNOW you’re in here, Dad!” she shouted.
You should’ve seen the look on her face when she realized he wasn’t.
Now he’s jumping out at them in the dark. Asher is screaming, Orion is laughing and Elkin is crying. Even though it seems like this memory will last forever, I know if I don’t write this down I’ll probably forget, because of course, in time, this too will disappear under a landscape of change.