a.k.a. V.J.

“The only Zen you can find on the tops of mountains is the Zen you bring up there.” – Robert M. Pirsig

There are few things I find more restorative than a nature walk. I have a belief — an article of faith, really — that spending time in natural environments, in forests, meadows, wetlands, and the like is essential for a person’s well-being. My theory is that because humans evolved to dwell in certain types of environments, and those environments were not modern cities or towns, we need to get back to something close to our intended state of being every so often to get in touch with our true selves.

That’s what I’d like to believe, anyway. Maybe I’m overselling the benefits. But at the very least, I’m certain that getting out and exercising in the fresh air is never a bad thing for the body. And to move through a serene setting, observing, taking in new sounds and scents and sights is good for the soul.

This morning, I packed that set of beliefs into the car and took a 45-minute drive to Green Lakes State Park in Fayetteville, N.Y. The two lakes contained in the park, Green Lake and Round Lake, are indeed green. Very green. That’s not due to algae, but rather large amounts of minerals dissolved into the water. The visual effect is beautiful, although frustratingly difficult to capture with my camera.

The lakes are also fairly deep relative to their modest surface area. Green Lake is 195 feet deep and Round Lake has a depth of 180 feet. I learned today that these lakes are rare examples of what are called meromictic lakes, which means they have distinct layers of water that don’t intermix. I’m not sure if that adds to the distinct appearance of the water or not, but walking along the shore of Green Lake, I can definitely say that it has a different aura than other lakes in this region, beyond just the water color.

Another aspect of Green Lakes that gives the place a different vibe is that much of the wooded area of the park is old-growth forest. It is said to be the largest old-growth stand in the region. This may or may not have had something to do with the fact that my Merlin app identified several birds I had never encountered in any of my other Central New York nature hikes.

I might have been able to hear even more new birdsongs than I did had it not been for the one aspect of the park that was not enjoyable: the throngs of chatty people out on the trail. Given that it was a Sunday and the weather was pretty nice, it wasn’t surprising that the nature trails were crowded. There were all manner of walkers, dog walkers, and runners about, usually in clusters. You’ll never hear me complaining about there being too many dogs in a given place, but masses of humanity are a different matter — especially when I’m attempting to move through a serene setting, observing, taking in new sounds and scents and sights.

So many of the people out on the trails seemed uninterested in taking in the lovely surroundings. They were more absorbed in conversations with each other about workplace gossip or happenings at school. One guy I passed was making his way down the trail while loudly talking on his cell phone, recounting details of some confrontation he had with a coworker during what sounded like, God help me, a Microsoft Teams meeting.

And then there were the reminders that no nature preserve is so lovely that certain people won’t defile it or act like knuckleheads inside its boundaries. I saw litter in a few places, including discarded mini liquor bottles. There was a sign warning of draconian punishments for people foolish enough to swim outside the designated areas. People suck.

I’m not the nature police. It’s not for me to tell people they should experience the great outdoors the same way I do. That said, I do wonder what value suburbanites find in driving out into the country among ancient lakes and primeval woodlands, only to blithely pass through it all like they’re at a shopping mall. Pearls before swine, I suppose.

The Chatty Cathies aside, I was charmed and delighted by Green Lakes State Park. I walked a couple miles at a comfortable pace. I smelled the fresh air of a new spring. I heard the avian songs of the forest. I pondered the green depths of a mysterious lake. What else can one wish for on an April morning?