Finding Solitude off of the Interstate
As much as I enjoy seclusion and solitude, the region where I live is one of the most densely populated in the country. Southern New England consists of major metropolitan areas of Boston. And Connecticut is a neighbor of New York City. This means the traffic is often atrocious. So much so that when it is not, it is an aberration. Sometimes I look to get off of that highway, searching for the perfect log.
Ironically, what I search for more often than not is solitude, searching for the perfect log. This is what I call it. The log is a metaphor for the isolation I seek. As the logs that are found strewn in the woods are trees that fell, now neglected and waiting for decomposition, these in turn make them the perfect locations to seek out the much-coveted solitude, being alone.
The Conundrum
The conundrum of searching for this perfect log is the mode of transportation needed. I need to drive my gas-powered car on congested roads such as Route 3 in Massachusetts or, even more unfortunately, Interstate 95, which traverses much of New England. Sitting in traffic with billboards silhouetted against the morning sky, I lock eyes with overpaid and anxious lawyers smirking at the oncoming traffic. Other billboards tout the majesty of casinos sprawled out like an Emerald City.
And what am I looking for? That brief moment of solitude, away from the rush of the highway or the muted monotony of the barrage of strip malls. Back to nature but needing an emissions-spewing automobile to get me there. Ironic.
Finding Solitude, or Searching for the Perfect Log
Northeastern Connecticut, also known as the Quiet Corner is the one respite from the sea of glowing lights of suburban and urban areas of the region. Through The Last Green Valley, this organization has put a spotlight on the natural wonder of this largely untouched corner of the state.
For me, it is trying to enjoy the woods as I can find them, ambling through parks such as the Altschul Preserve in Connecticut, the Hoyt-Hall Preserve in Marshfield, Massachusetts, or the Cow Tent Preserve in Duxbury. For me searching for the perfect log is being able to find solitude off of Interstate 95 or any other major thoroughfare that I, unfortunately, need to access to achieve my goal of seclusion.
