Three Poems for The Dismal and Upper Valley Land Trust
by Jessica Purdy
Jul, 2021
At the Dismal at Pressey Brook Conservation Land
Annoyance in spring, gnats in my eyes. Forgetting
bug spray and sunglasses.
Loud cars. Packs of motorcycles
needing attention. Popping their exhaust.
Exhaustion. Not getting in position
to film the eagle before it flies away.
People who leave the toilet seat up.
Being awakened by noise. Ticks.
Anything sticky on the floor.
Ants on the floor. Hot flashes.
All this could be solved with a waterfall
in the Dismal at Pressey Brook. Arriving
at the trail, our long-awaited destination,
it starts downpouring.
The slow sizzle like hamburger in a hot pan.
The crunch of old twigs underfoot.
A fallen tree dips its fingers in, combs the running water.
A sieve. A spider web between branches.
I consider how the dead tree’s intrusion
ruins the waterfall’s perfection. But then
see how its branches are like this woman’s body, eager
to rest, trailing her fingers, letting the water’s silk
run, asking so little from her world?
I cannot make the waterfall run, but I can dip my fingers in.
Mossy stones, emerald green pillows soft
against the cheek of silk brown water.
What if the tree grasped the boulder in its hand
and held it in its palm; grew together as the land shifted?
How much bloodroot can blossom in two weeks?
The dye can color our clothes, our blankets.
What if we didn’t have to worry; that the water would never stop
running, falling; that the sound would never end, leave us bereft?
Even the ticks, those hangers-on, can be seen, picked off.
Layers of clothing can be put on in chill, shed in heat.
The air’s changing temperature rapid as mountain storms.
We can be stopped by the ticking of rain falling in vernal pools.
A big black dog crashing out from the underbrush looks us in the eye, stops moving, then
charges back down the trail, its red collar flashing brightly like a beacon home.
Having Visited
I want to go back to the Dismal to see
what has happened since I left it last.
Did they take away the tree that fell across
the waterfall like a woman fainting
in a silent film? The back of her
hand across her forehead, her fingers
trailing in the spill. Water striders
walking on the surface like miracles. The logger
who came to take her away, did he have
wide hands, thick fingers? Did the dog
who emerged from the brush find its owner?
Did the car with the windows down get
soaked with rain? What flowers bloom
there now? Daisies? Queen Anne’s Lace?
What vines have crept up the trunks
of trees to choke them; is it called bittersweet?
They reach for the sun with the tips
of their leaves. I want to smell the air
there after it rains, to have heard thunder
and run to the edge of the water on a
cushion of needles. I want to see the boulder
held in the palm of the tree’s roots, hear
the brief calls of birds I can’t name, hear
the water as it glides over the rocks slippery
with moss, green as good health and soft
as a kiss. I want to go again with my husband
and we’ll strip off our clothes, shake
the ticks off, share some water and
leave our review of the destination
hanging private in the air there. No question
we found our way in and we’ll find
our way back out. I want to be grateful
I don’t know what it’s like to have never
been here, to have loved like that.
Trail Map Study
You don’t have to know what the moss is named
or know how many boards it took to make the bridge.
You don’t have to know which book to open
or where to find the light of your curiosity.
If only there were a way to portal yourself
to the woods when you need them. Leave
behind those who would try to stop your finding out,
try to discourage your study of leaves: what shade
of green; pattern of veins; what pink flower buds?
That you might want to make someone feel better
by finding medicinal properties in the wildflowers.
That the home you have found here in New Hampshire
is the first place you are learning to breathe.
You don’t need a manual for this kind of living.
Jessica Purdy holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Emerson College. Her books STARLAND and Sleep in a Strange House were both released by Nixes Mate Books in 2017 and 2018. Visit Jessica at jessicapurdy.com
At Upper Valley Land Trust (uvlt.org) we provide conservation leadership, tools and expertise to permanently protect the working farms, forested ridges, wildlife habitat, water resources, trails and scenic landscapes that surround residential areas and commercial centers and make the Upper Valley a truly special place to live.