Today I received an email message from a friend of Frost Valley's - a guy who with his wife owns a house nearby and has come to love hiking and fishing and mushrooming at (and near) FV. He's a big-time guy in NYC, runs a really terrific institute, but loves to get away to the Catskills. He's come to know our summer camp over the past few summers, but his first contact with us was the allure of the forests, streams and trails. His email to me just now really reads like a poem. I've very moved by it. Here goes:
We were at Frost Valley Saturday
no fish no mushrooms of note but gorgeous
In my normally alone spot there was a hiker who told me not to be alarmed if I heard screaming and crying
He said his wife died
I asked when
A year ago
Well I did hear copious weeping and more
So I moved on
Good old frost valley