SPELUNKING AT MALABAR—

We started that day on a tour of the colored leaves at Malabar Farm but a “cave” exploration turned out to be the highlight of the visit because--most leaves were still green.

On a sandstone ridge far above Louis Bromfield’s “big house” geologic forces over eons have punished the once-again forested landscape. To this day, the power of wind, water and the freeze-thaw cycle continue to inexorably shape the rocky formation.

As we enjoyed a gentle climb to the ridge more and more rock strata punctured the floor of the woods. Here and there a glacial remnant in the form of a huge rock would simply appear among the countless ferns and other under-canopy flora.

As the trail narrows then declines sharply a large black burrow retreats into the gullet of the hill.

As you enter the guts of this rocky formation your eyes adjust and you are rewarded with the sight of a kaleidoscope of moss covered stones which, then, disappear into geologic gloom.

Most rocks are challenging to traverse. Some would crush a house if they moved suddenly.

Darkness inside the damp formation is never absolute. But almost is.

We wiggled carefully over and around the challenging formation feeling our way more than seeing it—often passing warnings to those behind us of protruding obstructions.

Slowly, you find yourself leaning at a backward angle and sliding along the formation with a side-stepping motion while the parallel rock that encapsulates you is in your face.

That is a rock you really hope does not move just now.

Far above you sometimes see daylight through narrow cracks and you realize just how far below you really are.

Finally, the path turns sharply and begins to climb. It’s like dragging yourself over a pile of large rocks in a steeply inclined tunnel which exploded, once upon a time.

Then, the air freshens and with a thankful, final exertion you are once again standing in the silence of the woods.