The sky was blue without a cloud in sight, and it was touched by green fields of hay, which reached to the sky with few interruptions. There were a few old apple trees in the surrounding farm fields, but none of them really broke the image. Instead, they worked to prefect the picture. The sky wasn't perfect, as it was broken up by jet trails and the overhead powerlines, but those things did not disrupt things significantly.

There was hills all around, including several to the west. The purple Catskill Mountains could be seen clearly against a whitish blue sky that surrounded them. There was some snow still up in the Catskills as shown through the patches of snow that could still be seen on the Catskill Mountains.

I was small in such a world, everything man-made was insignificant. The powerlines running along the road shrunk to little more then just match sticks, dotting the hill. My car was nothing more then a toy, and I really was not as important as I sometimes pretend to be. God had to have created such a place, and I was in his place.

Looking around, I could see how man had blended into nature. His paved road, with it's bright yellow and white lines, bright orange snow fence, and the old mobile home to the west provided a rusty red color, that completed the color spectrum. Even road signs, like the ever so small stop sign added more color to an already colorful picture. Old houses and barns helped frame a picture defined through fields, ponds, and forests.

I walked for maybe a mile along this road. I kicked up gravel along the side of the road, and I proceeded to pick up a piece of gravel for closer inspection. It was not particularly different from all other roads around, but it was still fascinating to hold in my hand and look at it carefully. I saw many things other things along the road, such as an abandoned house with it's siding coming off and grass growing up around it. It amazed me how humans could just walk away from one of their creations, and just not care.

Between one set of hills, a 'V'-shaped picture of the Catskills was formed, with green hay field framing both sides. The Catskills were purple in color, with another single Apple Tree superimposed in the foreground. A camera might be able to frame this, but it would never give the experience of great big blue sky overhead and how it truly felt to be there. Experience can never be captured or placed in a box, it can only be remembered.

There was an old barn along the road that fascinated my senses. It was a rough-board barn and was totally unpainted. In the wind that was whipping around on the hill, you could hear the boards creeking and slapping each other. This barn was a relic of an agricultural past, and it had not been used for many years for agriculture. Half of the barn was gone, and the top of the silo, which was next to it, was caved in. Time had passed it on, and a new generation had taken it over.

Inside of the barn there was a partial picture frame, probably all but forgotten. Inevitably it will be nothing more then just firewood. Similiarly, old farm equipment sat next to the barn, rusting away, with nobody caring about it's maintance. Agriculture had not passed this area by, but instead had become concentrated through the development of equipment that empowered the farmer to do more. The neccessity of the modern economy required the farmer do more.

I started to hum on the the song On the Loose..., with the first verse being, On the loose to climb a mountain, on the loose where I am free..., rapidly forgetting the rest of the song. Still only thoughts of freedom where important, the substance of the song was as unimportant as my existence in such a powerful place. Thoughts about rural freedom and my previous writings on the subject all started to distill down into my head. I was free, and I had found my name like Jim Croce's song so famously talked about.

Looking farther around, I saw more things that fascinated me. In one direction was a plowed farm field, awaiting some crop to spring up and bring it's bounty to a local farmer. I do not know who this farmer is, only that he cares enough for his land to maintain it. The brown soil blended in perfectly with the picture, now made up of all the previous elements, plus the distant Confireous and Decidious forests. The greens of these trees, along with the fields and distant houses made such an amazing picture that allowed the imagination to run freely.

As the sun started to move farther to the west, I could see my shadow grow. The projection of myself was larger then life, it demostrated how nature ultimately was bigger then me. I could feel the wind blowing on me, on this clear and cold afternoon. It was warmer then my explorations during last December, but still very windy. The wind was streching the powerlines running above, adding a strange and unnatural huming to the picture at times.

I was alone and free. Nobody really knew where I was at that particular moment, except for myself. Nobody could tell me what to do, and nobody could subject me to the control: I was Alone and Free. The state was far away, and any figures of authority where probably 10 or maybe even 20 miles away. I could be myself without conforming—all of my control over my body was vested in my hands. It was complete freedom and control over myself.

Afterwords, I went over to Kenyen Road for a couple mile hike, enjoying the experience of a rural dirt road with few houses along it. Development along this road has been a concern to me at times, but today I felt myself alone and free from such pressures. It was the beautiful place that I had been to many times in the past, and had recorded ever so carefully in the form of pictures.

This area was a place where my mind could run free. I could imagine about anything, and I wrote dozens of ideas down on paper, about many different subjects. Almost anything here could inspire me to write about anything. I was alone, after all. And so I did.

Rapidly my time was starting to run out, and I found the need for my return home, rapidly approaching. And while I realized I wanted to be there forever, I knew that a life in this place would normalize it, and cause me to have grave disrepect for the world around me. I saw a cow who had escaped from his pasture, and I realized that a domestic rural life, while desirable, would inevitably destroy the world I so desired to be in.

Freedom would eventually become chores, and the big blue sky, and the purple mountains would set in as part of the normal life. This place had to be left alone, it had to maintain it's idenitity. Over the 4 1/2 hours I spent up there, the beauty had somewhat deminished, I had been over exposed. I had to return home. I knew I would come back to this area to enjoy it another day, but I realized my time had come to leave this great place.