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Sometimes, running alone on a forest trail, you see things. Hearing things is pretty common: grey and brown song sparrows flitting through the scrub oak, tiny chipmunks startling in the dry foliage and making enough racket you’d think a bear was in there. I love the solitude and the silent background to the birdsong and chipmunk drama. Though I’m mostly focused on the trail so I don’t trip over a root knob and eat dirt, I scan my surroundings so I don’t run into a bear, or more likely a moose, eating breakfast and oblivious to my presence. But sometimes, you see strange things. One day while descending, I came around a bend on Orton Trail and caught a glimpse of a dark figure ahead of me. Except - there was nothing there but the short, dark and dead trunk of a tree, rough and bulging wide at the center - with a face! His one blue-grey eye stared at me inquisitively, nose and mustachioed mouth questioning “who are you?” This tree sprite put a grin on my face. After that, I made sure my route included my friend. Each time I ran up Emerald I would say “Hi” as he gave me a look of encouragement, and each time I ran down his nod of “nice job” would always make me smile. I’d even tap the trunk in hello. What a stalwart supporter for each and every training run all last fall. In early summer this year I finally made my way back to run on Emerald. As I’ve written in There’s No Place Like Emerald Mountain, these trails are my favorite place to be. It truly is the wonderland of trail running - at least for me. The way Eye-to-Eye twists back onto itself repeatedly so that I’m almost seeing myself run by in the opposite direction. The thickening of the trees on Hudson near where the old Hudson car is, the trail dark and eerie, despite the sunshine elsewhere. The way the gnome has a way of hiding in the foliage at the Blackmere entrance to Larry’s. I’m not a fan of magical thinking - but the stories and experiences and community contribution to Emerald Mountain have created a place in nature that is both magic and whimsy. So as I ran up Emerald in June after six months away, I was excitedly anticipating greeting my friend the tree sprite. As I approached my smile and hello tap were ready…but the face was gone. All that was left was one little screw. For the rest of the run I shifted between sadness and anger. Did someone steal the face? Did they have so little understanding and regard for the Emerald vibe, were they that clueless? I cursed them through my disappointment. And really, it was beyond disappointment. I felt bereft, desolate - something precious had been taken. I didn’t run up there again. Until this past Saturday. I decided it was time to head up Emerald. The first climb usually gets my heart rate into the red in about ten yards, and it felt good to be back. I even passed a cyclist climbing Blackmere - which was something, considering my pace was slo-mo. Approaching the tree of my old friend, the sprite, I was prepared for the sadness of his expressionless trunk…but lo and behold, he was back!!! New face, comical expression…and somehow Emerald felt complete again. That face in the forest is a friend, and more. The sprite is a wink to the quirkiness and fun, a testament to the friendliness and camaraderie, a nod to the spirit of the unknown…the enchantment of a face in the forest.
2 Comments
Sante
8/28/2026 02:00:59 pm
Makes your pace more spritely.
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Jacqueline
9/2/2026 09:02:20 am
Haha! Nice, Sante!!
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AuthorJacqueline Denny, ACC, CHPC, LMT Categories
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