We are told that when the glaciers crashed through Maine, they raked and dragged and smashed the landscape, flattening some hills and mountains and creating others. Many areas in the southwest were not subjected to this extreme demolition, and so they have kept their canyons and peaks. People from the southwest are often shocked when they see the severe effects of the ice on the land in Maine, even though many thousands of years have passed.
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| The rabbit hole. |
Surrounded by oaks is a large flattened boulder from the
last glacial period. That’s what I’m
told. There appears to be an entrance at
the bottom right to a subterranean world.
That’s what I surmise. That’s
what my eyes see. I do not see a glacial
formation. I see an entrance. How far down does the rabbit hole go? Judging by the moss growing on the boulder,
it has been there for quite some time.
The thing about entrances is that they’re also exits. If something can go down or in, then
something can also come up or out. This
is a less-traveled part of the woods, and the thick cluster of oaks adds to the
mystique. This is a place where many
things go in and come out. If I were to
fall asleep against an old oak, would I wake up in 100 years like Rip Van
Winkle? Looking at this boulder, it
seems very possible to me.
It’s funny how fairy tales are “cute” when read in a
civilized setting, but when out in the woods, they don’t seem nearly as cute
anymore. They seem downright
possible. So if a tiny man should ask
for my help in carrying anything, I should refuse him. If a dainty wisp of a lady were to offer me
something to drink, I would be wise to say no.
And if a finely-dressed man should offer me a ride on his horse, I
should run in the other direction.
Because if I helped the man with his burden, if I drank the
lady’s wine, if I took the ride on the horse, I might find that this is not a
glacial formation after all. I might find
myself inside that rabbit hole. I’d go
straight through the obvious entrance and plunge downward, spending at least 20
years inside and only occasionally looking for the exit. Eventually I’d come out the same way I went
in, considerably grayer and longer in tooth, but what a tale I’d have to tell!
It’s hard to explain.
There are some things that you just know. I get a “feeling” whenever I’m around this
boulder. It’s that feeling of being
watched, that feeling of there being much more to this rock than the eye can
see. There’s a feeling of another
realm. Was it formed by the last ice
age? Perhaps, but more likely, it was
revealed and not formed. An entrance was
not carved by the ice; an exit was.
