Once we reached the bottom of the Stone Door, we continued downward beyond both sets of manmade stairs. If we’d been feeling more in shape, we might have gone all the way to the bottom of the valley. However, it was Christmas Day and we weren’t prepared to make the return climb back up, so we limited our descent to a distance we could comfortably climb back up.
The path went through fallen outcroppings of rocks. Rough natural steps were formed (or maybe occasionally placed) from the fallen limestone. But the steps were uneven with cracks and slippery spots. I nearly fell on more than one occasion while working my way down one of the larger rocks. All I could think was “protect the camera.”
When we reached the point we decided would be the end of our descent, we stopped and looked back. The outcropping we’d been standing on earlier looked a little more frightening in the context of the enormous chunk of fallen rock we’d just scrambled down–particularly when we saw just how much that overlook juts out from the cliffside.
So much of the stone looked like it was precariously perched, just waiting for the wind to pick up enough speed or water to pour down hard enough or lightening to strike or a few too many hikers to jump up and down on the overlook to break free and find its way down to the valley below.
Tisen and Twiggy were unimpressed by the scene. They were busy searching through the leaves for interesting new scents. Did they find evidence of a bear? Perhaps just a deer. Whatever smells they found, they buried their noses in them and wagged their tails feverishly.
Thankfully, Pat had them back on leashes and was able to keep them from running off on down the valley tracking whatever scent they’d picked up. To be honest, Twiggy probably knew exactly what scent she’d found–she’s a true hunter. Tisen was more likely to just be imitating Twiggy, going through the motions, trusting that Twiggy had found something really good.
We stood gazing at the fallen rocks with trees growing out of them and tried to guess how long those rocks have been lying there. I have no idea how to guess how old the trees decorating them are–they could be 20 years or 100 years old. The rock no longer looks like a disaster scene but rather like it’s settled into the earth it met with some time ago. The sharp edges have softened and fissures have opened in the rock, allowing for more trees to grow.
I like this metaphor. A big crash that seems like total destruction creates a place for new life to flourish. Lichens cover the rocks. Leaves decompose on and around the stone, creating rich new soil. The rock collects and redirects water into the fissures, watering the seeds the have fallen in the cracks. Life reclaims the fallen and uses them anew.