A message to Sara, my kindred spirit, my love, my bride...

Your Maryland Dog has returned from his journeys over the land. He presents you with "Essence of Susquehanna State Park" or "A tale of digital cameras, beavers, stomachs, Mavis, Google, and most-definetly-haunted-and-creepy stone places with dripping water".

First things first. As a wee lad, I was enamored with Bill Peet's books. Perhaps you've heard of him. He drew in pencil and color in ways that made things real and likable. My favorites were the woods he drew. In almost every story, they had a role. The main character would somehow end up in the woods, like this...

and this...

...Bill Peet's woods were always dark and inscrutable. Places of refuge, mystery, or deep secrets. I loved them. And so, having exposed that colored-pencil, childhood, underpinning of my recently-expressed exploratory desires, let us move on to the present day, where my face is all swelled up...

...In this painfully real and puss-filled world, I get to twiddle my thumbs, waiting for the government to tell me to go back on base. Sigh. So, this afternoon, after exhausting all productive tasks I could think of, and even some marginally productive ones, I said to myself. "Self, get your butt out of this chair...

...and go do something." ("But first, have some Jelly Bellies.") And so my self cordially agreed, and we set about our task together. Before long, I was dressed warmly, had amoxicillin coursing through my veins and ventricles, and pear-flavored jelly belly stuck to my upper second molar. It was time for me and my sugar-laden chompers to go. I had Mavis, I had food, I had my camera, I had a brand-new mini-car-van-sliding-swinging-door-folding-seat thing with a full tank of gas. I had a map. I was invincible, gloriously independent, free of all tethers, unencumbered from schedules... and had no idea where to go...and first I had to pee...

...Since I had no idea what to do, I asked the nearest woman. She said Susquehana State Park was a mere 6.3 miles from my current position, and furthermore, there were several ways to get there. AND, would I like the fastest, shortest, or most/least freeway usage to get there? I opined that the fastest might be in our best interest, since the sun was only seven fingers above the horizon. And so, my dear reader, that is how we found ourselves on the way to a closed, deserted, and most likely very uninteresting State Park. And so we went...

...we journeyed through the lands of the dearly departed, under the rain, over dale and speed bump, in our desire for Susquehannian satisfaction. Never were there a wordlier (werdlier?) pair of travelers. Mavis curtly directed me in her prim manner from the cup-holder, and I followed her every word with split-second obedience. Soon, we were descending...

...from the loamy heights down to the brooding hollows among the trees. Here indeed, one could imagine Civil War scouts, underground railroads, misty creatures from tall tales, and perhaps even Salem-era witches. Anything was possible in these woods, with dank stillness and slow dewy drips to accompany the travelers steps. Not far on...

...we gained our prize. The entrance to the hallowed Susquehannian woods (not to be entered after civil twilight, apparently). Mavis fell silent, as if in respect of the portentious occasion. Here, man was on his own. Man was scared. The woods grew darker, and man grew to appreciate the glow from his vehicle's lights, its comforting, steady gaze, and mollifying reports of speed, temperature and oil pressure. After all...

...who knows what lurks about in such places?

...tree-felling R.O.U.S.'s?...

...surely goblins, trolls, and elves were not far off in this misty, silent place...

...the murky river's depths revealed no secrets, no matter how long I looked. It was patient, but I was hungry. I finally left several long, agonizing, soul-searching, stomach-rumbling seconds. It was time to leave. As we passed, ancient buildings...

...loomed out of the mists in a haunted-for-sure-so-I'm-not-going-near-that-thing kind of way. Man was scared. Woman told him the way back to his hotel. And then man ate. After his efforts he said, "It is good", and everyone lived happily-ever-after.