In a stand of tall trees off Hilltown Pike, you turn into a driveway marked by a sign. 500 feet out the view opens up to a wide grass field sitting atop the highest point in the area.
You have entered a place close to suburbia, yet apart from it. While here, that busy hectic world disappears. It only comes into view again once well above the hill top. But then you are in a new space. Metropolises move into view to the South and maybe to the East as well, yet they seem peaceful, even beautiful from up here.
That field below you keep in view – marvel at it’s size and appreciate a vision acted on 75 years ago and kept alive ever since.
Maybe you planned a temporary escape, hopping from cloud to cloud to other places, certainly with the goal to eventually return.
And as you connect back to that grass field, circle it, gauge it’s distance, make a last turn and see it come closer until you stop, tension leaves your body and you reflect on the last fifteen minutes or six hours.
During the walk back towards those trees that keep this space hidden, even protected from the outside world, you know. How as the tires hit the gravel drive, there is a world that stays outside, on that other side of the trees. On this side, with the grass field on top of a hill you can recharge. How many places like this are there?