This past weekend I took a camping trip down to Bowman Lake, a remote state park in the middle of Chenango County. There really isn’t much to see at Bowman Lake, which makes it the perfect place to relax and do nothing. Nowhere is usually a challenge to get to, however, and Bowman is the epitome of “you can’t get there from here” (and even more so when you are stuck behind a slow-moving manure truck). Even if you take the more direct route out, toward Route 12 (rather than 81), you are still going through an awful lot of “nothing.”
Stopped on top of a big hill outside of a small, lonely cemetery on a foggy morn, it really struck me how nature has us surrounded everywhere, even though we may assume otherwise. Even our bigger cities and towns in relatively civilized Upstate NY are merely smallish island outposts surrounded by vast fields of chirping crickets, nodding wildflowers, and untended shrubbery. And you will get very wet, dirty and itchy very fast if you venture even a few yards away from the pavement.
All of it going on day and night, year after year, not caring one bit about anything good or bad that goes on in Syracuse, Albany or even way far away in powerful New York City.