A hike through the virgin red spruce forest on Gaudineer Knob brings out a certain druidic yearning in me. It’s easy to imagine a spirit life behind the small miracles that unfold here - moss budding over ancient roots, a cool seep teeming with brook lettuce, fungi pushing up through the detritus - but it’s all so fragile and easily wiped away in an instant. If not for a surveying error over a century ago, this old forest wouldn’t even be here. So I am forever thankful when I visit that it survived and acknowledge (discreetly of course) whatever invisible spirits may inhabit its mossy nooks..















