The Glories of Upstate New York

For as long as I can remember I've had a deep appreciation for natural beauty. Growing up, I was always fascinated by animals, captivated by sunsets, and would gladly spend hours romping around in the woods. So thinking that the Finger Lakes and the rolling hills of the Chemung Valley were astonishingly beautiful as I was growing up was nothing out of the ordinary. But it was only after leaving the area for school and other travels that I recognized within myself a new appreciation for the simple beauty that this region of the country so consistently provides every season of the year.

Seneca Lake from Watkins Glen

So it was a great delight to find another "evangelist" for upstate New York in Thomas Merton. As I mentioned in a previous post, I'm chipping away at his spiritual classic The Seven Storey Mountain during lunch breaks and the like. Currently, Merton is telling of his years in graduate school and, specifically, about a trip he and his friends had taken to Olean (near Buffalo) via train from Columbia University. It was with a certain sense of pride--and gratitude to God--that I read the following passage:

"For the first time I saw a part of the world in which I was one day going to learn how to be very happy--and that day was not now very far away.

It is the association of that happiness which makes upper New York state seem, in my memory, to be so beautiful. But it is objectively so, there is no doubt of that. Those deep valleys and miles and miles of high, rolling wooded hills: the broad fields, the big red barns, the white farm houses and the peaceful towns: all this looked more and more impressive and fine in the long slanting rays of the sinking sun after we had passed Elmira.

And you began to get some of the feeling of the bigness of America, and to develop a continental sense of the scope of the country and of the vast, clear sku, as the train went on for mile after mile, and hour after hour. And the color, the freshness, and bigness, and richness of the land! The cleanness of it. The wholesomeness. This was new and yet it was old country. It was mellow country. It had been clearned and settled for much more than a hundred years."

Thomas Merton, The Seven Storey Mountain (Harvest Press, 1998: p.219)

Thomas Merton (1915-1968)