Adirondack Audacity Read Online Free

the year Helen moved into the house. The journal
gave me an excuse to explore the outdoors, leaving
responsibilities behind to spend hours collecting,
sketching or just day dreaming under the willow tree
growing alongside the pond.
Gran can be frugal but…….Christmas and birthdays
are celebrated with gaily wrapped packages exploding
with bows and ribbons and sometimes…….surprises.
And by surprises, I mean surprises………last year a
coiled toy snake popped out of my gift. Weird but fun.
Two years ago, she caught a mouse in her Have-a-Heart
trap and wrapped it in a box with air holes poked through
it, hoping to prank me. But the joke backfired; I loved
the mouse, named it Oscar and tried taking it home for a
pet. Until Helen met me at the door with her arms folded
across her chest and ice daggers in her eyes. Not uttering
a single word I turned and walked to the field next to our
house and let the mouse go. I thought Oscar had a better
chance with the feral cats in the neighborhood than he
did with Helen.
It’s because of my grandmother that I’m qualified to
take on the job as a nature counselor at camp. She passed
her love of the outdoors on to me. I grew up spending
afternoons wandering in the fields and woods around her
house as she pointed out various plants and animal signs
to me. In her world, the fields and forest are her church
and Bible. There are no expectations or criticisms in the
woods. Acceptance, respect and forgiveness abide
amongst the trees and animals.This is where God lives.
Glancing at Vera to make sure she is still asleep, I
brush away stray pieces of lint from the journal’s cover.
The front is hand-tooled, scrollwork blooming with
flowers and leaves. The binding is broken and worn.
At one time the pages smelled faintly of trees and
sunshine. Now they smell of earth and dried leaves.
Growing up in a house that wrote its own definition
of normal, I became introspective and quiet. Coupled
with my stumbling clumsiness, the kids at school dubbed
me with the nickname, Klutz-Ellen. It’s no wonder I
preferred playing with frogs and butterflies. It’s not that
I’m bad at sports; I’m just bad at life. It could be worse;
Joey Thompson’s nickname was Poopy Pants. Don’t ask.
Never having many friends, I spent my time
outdoors, learning how to sketch plants and animals, and
sometimes the journal provided an outlet to purge the
frustrations of my home and social life and come away
renewed. Turning a page, I run my hand over the delicate
plants pressed in the peak of bloom, now faded and held
eternal by a dab of glue. Colored pencils highlight or
shade points of interest…
And there on the inside cover is my grandmother’s
firm handwriting.
Dearest Ellen,
    Hold fast to your dreams; keep a still secret spot where
they may go. Shelter those dreams so they thrive and grow,
away from doubt and fear. Let the magic of nature work
at will in you, and may your spirit soar. Be not afraid of
the miles ahead, hold fast to your journey, stay proud and
strong. Make the past your history, and not an excuse for
the future. Embrace truth, banish falsehoods and never let
darkness win.
Always my love,
Gran
    The bus winds and climbs the steep roads, pushing
through rocky outcrops of forests. Huge boulders bump
through the forest green like gnarled knuckles and
rippling spines of granite. Balsam fir gives way to red
maple, white birch and towering white pines. And I can’t
help but wonder what this summer has in store for me.
    My guide book said the Adirondack Park is one of
the largest parks in America, larger than Yellowstone,
Grand Canyon and Yosemite combined; the largest
publicly protected area in the contiguous United States.
The park contains forty-six mountains over 4000 feet,
thirty thousand miles of rivers and two thousand lakes
and ponds. In 1894 the Adirondack Forest Preserve was
established and recognized as a protected Forever Wild
area.……..and my