About half way between the water fall and the White River, following the creek trail in McCormic Creek State Park,
there is a sharp bend in the creek, which makes the whole area a bit darker than everything else. In the middle of the creek one can spot a strange creature standing there and obviously waiting for us.
At a closer distance, the creature reveals itself as the trunk of a dead tree, losing not much of its previous ominosity.
Its strong roots hold on to the icy water like the grip of a dead man’s hand.
The stump hints at the missing presence of a once magnificent tree. It is always what is not there that makes a place sacred.
This is a landscape that would best be illuminated by Paul Celan’s Fadensonnen. Elsewhere in the park, off the marked trails, a relative is still alive, barely, waiting as well.
The Inner Frame 