These Bear Oaks Either

My younger daughter is working on a paper.  The assignment has to do with whether or not the U.S. constitution is “redeemable.”  She’s comparing the end-of-history claim by Francis Fukuyama and a Putin diatribe about how western liberalism is obsolete.  We’d talked about it earlier and on the ride in this morning I was asking her more about her opinion.  I was marveling at how she’d developed such a nuanced critique in such a short time.  Churchillian, she suggested that America would likely evolve to meet its current challenges, eventually. I considered her sixteen plus years on earth during which China in comparison had changed so dramatically in comparison to the U.S.  She had no immediate context for the many, many centuries where it hadn’t changed at all, even when it critically needed to.  I’d been concerned a few years ago, living in Beijing, that they knew so little about the U.S. 

 

I had a call with a friend in Kenya on the way back after dropping her off.  There’s a change.  Dial up Nairobi on my Pixel 5 for free, the call holds for most of the ride.  And but for a brief period we have connectivity, but we can’t see one another, and I feel the urge to interrupt so I can get a word in edge wise.  He does the same with me.  At one point we’re both talking hoping the other will yield.  But convinced we already know what the other is going to say on the matter.  We’ve both heard it before. 

 

My dad’s waiting at my house, as he said he would and I go in to relieve myself and get a few things and soon we’re each in our cars heading up to the Mohonk Preserve.  He’s suggested we head to Bonticou Crag over which he’s talked about for a while now but this this will be my first time visiting.  I dial a colleague in Perth.  I can’t reach him.  I dial a friend in Beijing.  He doesn’t answer.  Then a friend from Vermont, with whom I’ve been playing phone tag for a few days now calls and I really want to talk to him.  He’s driving down to Philadelphia.  But just before he can state the critical information I drop the call and can’t reach him when I dial back once and twice again. 

We hike up towards the cliff face where one thousand boulders have tumbled to the foot of the cliff, as if it had been just yesterday.  It’s possible to ‘boulder’ up from here but we both agree to try the trail instead.  I’m dazzled by all the unique flora that happens at this altitude, in this area.  We don’t have American witch hazel back down  at my place which I can almost see from here.  We don’t have these ubiquitous chestnut oaks,or these bear oaks either.  And look at the leaves on those stripped maples.  Enormous.  They all must growing twice as long as some other sugar maple, to reach that height.

The crag itself is remarkable.  I go to one of the lower cliffs.  Below me, beyond where I can see a crow or a raven or someone large with a similar call is yelling out ominously.  I sit and stare out over the Hudson Valley, trying to find my home.  The binoculars are strong.  But not that strong.

Friday 5/28/21