Eternal Flame Falls

Road Dust and Writing Signs: Post #1

Welcome to my summer writing travel collection with a rejuvenating hike to Eternal Flame Falls in Orchard Park, New York. After about a hundred feet of level trail in the bright sunshine, old-growth forest beckons me into darkness and a sharp descent. I was alone and might have turned back, except the drop in temperature offered a reprieve, so I followed. The towering hardwood trees served as guideposts, thick shaggy-barked trunks extending fifteen feet into the air before their foliage created a canopy of cover.

Tree roots, hefty as mooring lines, snake along the muddy trail, somehow anchoring the giants in place where sandy earth gave way.

Now I can see boxy steps dropping into the gorge beyond a fantasy hemlock grove, where I imagine a book setting - maybe a fairytale or serial killer thriller.

I hear water singing the deeper I go, and 139 stair steps later, the gorge emerges around a bend, musical notes clattering over laminated shale. The trail scatters, and footsteps become trial and error. Over a rotting log. Under a half-fallen tree. Stepping stones, slick and shiny. Oops, one wet shoe. Hug the rock wall and tiptoe sideways. It’s all a child’s game.

One returning hiker offers encouragement. “You’re almost there. Five more minutes.”

Suddenly, a wall of clefts and crags fills thirty feet of space. Water cascades in two tiers, mostly in a lullaby of rivulets and burbles because the spring melt is finished. The shale rock layers form cracks and fissures where natural gas bubbles up, as it has for thousands of years. In one grotto, an orange fire glows, an eternal flame testifying to the power of nature.

I am inspired. The hikers next to me share stories of traversing at night in the New Moon: the black darkness, the creek’s sad melody, and the promising glow of the eternal flame illuminating the gorge.

Looking Up: Eternal Flame Falls

This hike mimics my writing pursuits. Upward climbs and steep descents, because creativity comes in waves and disappears along the same path. Sometimes I wait in darkness, surrounded by rock walls. Then the flame emerges. It is just there, and everything comes alive again. Words dance onto pages like musical notes, like skipping stones. Rejuvenation.

I hope you’re reading something wonderful, traveling, or enjoying summer weather wherever you may be.

Until next time!