Whites Run – I

Seneca Rocks, WV

Sitting on the edge of a stream bed, in a place where it intersects a dirt road, I feel I am watching the cross road of two distinct paths.

The stream flows gently down the rocks, sweeping small sticks, leaves and seeds from the banks and deposits them far from home. There is a gentle, soothing sound as the water cascades over the obstacles in its path, and all seems as it should be. The course of the water runs through forests, fields, swamps, along the sides of roads, and through small towns.

The road, rocky, old and worn, follows a different course. It leads through fields and meadows and up into the hills. While the stream takes water on its perpetual journey to the ocean, these back-country roads take man into the hills.

Now and again, the two cross each other. Though an unnatural intrusion at first, these roads are the fingers we use to reach out and grasp the beauty of the land on its sides.

Whites Run – II

Copyright (C), 1990, by Ashley Guberman

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