Where was beauty? Growing up in northern New Jersey, it eluded me. Of course there was Manhattan, canyons glittering at a distance beyond the gossamer span of the George Washington Bridge, but nature?
At least there were the Palisades, fifty miles of basalt embankment on the Jersey side, their name reminiscent of settlers’ forts. A strong vertical against the river, once I learned to see I could find their crystalline form–covered in trees and vines and ferns in summer, cracked by ice and frozen waterfalls in winter. Volcanic in origin, at the edge of where a great glacier stopped, carving bedrock.
Recently a huge chunk crashed off.
I won’t see it–my childhood house sold and gone. But I will always admire in my mind’s eye the beauty I found in a place without mountains, mesas, or much look at the earth’s bones–Palisades.
July 11, 2012 at 3:36 pm
This is beautiful. I grew up in Jersey, too, and this so reminds me of my childhood – the image of the image and the image invoked by your words. Lovely.
July 11, 2012 at 3:39 pm
Thank you!
July 22, 2012 at 2:11 am
Forgot you were a Jersey girl. Turquoise is a good disguise. One set of cousins was in Palisades, so I remember spending summer time there and other visits. That house is long gone too. I sent the link to the cousin my age, now in Canada