Place Entry #1

I used to ride on this trail everyday. It is a road-width trail that meanders through the woods along the Allegheny River. This trail is not even a mile from my home, but feels so separate--so foreign--and when I slide my body through the fence and re-enter "civilization", I still feel alien and unique to the cars passing me by to drive up Drey Street to go to K-Mart or Family Video. I am having a hard time choosing a specific spot along this mile-long trail to sit and observe for the next few months. 

But I find myself sitting here next to a gaping mouth in the ground, a cave. A couple of years ago, I had a very adventurous day. I packed rope and a flashlight and headed out here to explore the areas off the trail. I followed a scent that day--the scent of soap. It took me to trees with white blossoms that fell like snowflakes onto the ground. Those trees are still here and I have yet to identify them. But I came across this cave that is nothing but a grey hole in the ground. I look at it now and think to myself, "What the hell possessed me to go in there?!" To enter this cave, you must lay on your stomach and enter legs first. As you further enter the cave, the opening becomes smaller; just a puddle of green leaves and sky. Insects crawl along the ceiling right next to your head. Soon enough, you're able to get on your knees and then stand up, much like those charts that show the evolution of man as he progresses from walking on feet and fists to sauntering as a biped. 

I will go back into this cave someday. I've been meaning to, but haven't. As I sit here next to this cave, I am on a sort of edge or cliff overlooking a small meadow where a stream flows through. On that one adventurous day I had years ago, I got a deep cut that left a Nike sign of blood on the inside of my ankle. I washed it in that stream and was very tempted due to dehydration to even drink from it, but didn't. 

Today is a crisp day and the ground isn't as wet as I thought it would be considering I'm sitting in the shade. Yesterday was the first day that I noticed the leaves were changing. I have never seen this specific place, though,  in the fall or winter. I usually just rode my bike or walked it during the summer. 

The Allegheny River nearby has always been a very haunting river to me. I have many memories of it, including a memory of finding a dead, floating piglet on the shore. From here, I can hear the sounds that come from the river. The metallic sounds of the barges and the shhhhhh noise of sand from the riverbed being dropped onto the barge. And there is also the low hum of the power plants that follow the river south towards Pittsburgh. 

Once in a while, I get a disturbing feeling when I visit this place. I have been told stories about the homeless that come here. Right down this edge and past the meadow a bit, there is evidence of small fires and the newspapers surrounding those old fire pits date August 26th. It could be teenagers, it could be grown men with beer on their breath. There are cans and trash scattered here and there. I have morbid thoughts sometimes. I will pass a place up or see a random dark place on this earth and say, "That would be a good place to die." This would be a good place to die. Inside this cave. Is it instinctual to want to die alone and in a dark place? Animals do it. I'm only wondering. Who said it?

I wonder as I wander...