Being Sixteen at Sixty Five

In this world of cares and tears, we need a place to unwind, to rest and relax, and replenish our spent selves. I have a place that my friends and I found long ago. Distance of time and place has not eradicated that mountain top paradise from my heart. I go there when I need to cry, commune with my Maker, or simply to refuel.

It is atop a plateau hundreds of feet above our mountain community. The path leading there is shady, with giant pine, acorn and mahogany trees on either side. The protruding roots of these trees, cushioned with pine needles and fallen leaves formed an ascending stairway. All along the way was lush vegetation. Sunflowers painted the more exposed part of the mountain with gold; hedges with cotton-white flowers made part of the slope look snow-covered, and another part boasted of pink blooms. Cala and other lilies lined the shaded areas, while orchids hang from the trees. All these made the path fragrant and beautiful. Our nostrils dilate and our throats would dry as we found it harder to breathe as we got closer to the summit. But water from pitcher plants that abound on the wayside gave us relief.

If the path was beautiful, the top was wonderful! Trees formed a circle around a wide space that old folks say was once a lake. The place looks like a pavilion. The trees curtained the dried lake which is covered by thick Johnson grass. In a circular formation are mounds of moss about 3 to 4 feet high and evenly spaced. It was like an outdoor version of the court of the "Knights of the Round Table".

On the west edge ridge of the plateau are lime rock formations where we used to stand and view the China Sea at the far horizon. About four miles on the northern side of the plateau are two magnificent waterfalls called Inudey Twins that cascaded powerfully down the Mount Data Cliffs. The falls pummelled the first ledge of rocks so powerfully it bounced sprays of water back to the top of the plateau. This served as a prism for the sunrays and a beautiful rainbow would arch over Mount Data.

My friends and I frolicked in the lake, climbed the trees like monkeys, and ate berries for lunch. Time was so short, and soon we had to leave our haven at four o'clock in the afternoon because the thick foliage made the place dark when the sun gets down behind the mountain peaks.
We would go home laden with acorns, cones, berries and orchids.

A few years ago I was invited to speak in a reunion in Mount Data. I was excited because it was a chance to visit my mountain paradise after 50 years. I almost missed the place though. Gone was the shady path. Instead, there was a concrete paved road that snaked up to the mountain top. I thought it was ugly. People were riding vehicles instead of walking.

My heart fell when I reached the top. My paradise was nowhere to be found. Instead there were rows upon rows of flowers on one side, and strawberries and vegetables on another side. There were no trees. Instead trucks loading up with produce formed a circle around the garden that stole the space of my pavilion.

As we walked to pick some berries for breakfast, I told Mary, "I dearly miss the shady path we used to tread, but I confess I would not have made it up here without the road, and we would not have stayed the night without the cabins and the lights. Thank you so much for showing me the wonders I saw last night."

"I too miss our Dried Lake", said Mary. "I cried as each tree was cut down. But change is inevitable".
"Let us give them their generation's paradise", I said, pointing to her granddaughter, "but let us keep ours deeply etched in our hearts".

Back home, my young grandchildren playmates and I had a bonfire.
"Granny, please pass the marshmallows".