As a Ghost
Two feet around, Douglas fir, eight kilometres long. That's the stats of this abandoned pipeline, which brought fresh water from back beyond Bear River town, to the ill-fated Clarke Brothers pulp mill that once stood near where the 101 runs today. Most of it was scrapped, but a few steel bands still linger far from sight — the strangest tripping hazard these woods will ever see. As hikes go, it's not the hardest. The pipeline trail was dug level and flattened into the steep river slope, somewhat suggesting the world's narrowest gauge railroad once ran here. Certainly a gentler excursion than through the ankle-twisting nature surrounding. You may visit with an inclination that time has not changed much. Rust works slow on a solid bar of steel, rot moves faster but fir puts up a fight. In every direction sways the sparks of yellow flowers, beautifully random like fireflies frozen in flight. Below them, the green leaves of summer, and many seasons before gone dead and brown. Better to appreciate as a ghost of cooler weather floats through, keeps me sweating a little less and the bugs just barely at bay. I love everything down here indeed.
June 29, 2025
Deep Brook, Nova Scotia
Year 18, Day 6440 of my daily journal.
