It’s raining on, hard, as I type. For this and other reasons I’m melancholy as we wrap up our tour of the Northeast. The last branch of our trip landed us in the hemlock forests of Pennsylvania – home of the Squonk, a mythical beast that evokes the melancholy of man.

Mirror, mirror on the wall
His heart was broken long before he ever came to you
“Squonk”by Genesis
But let’s back up a bit first. Leaving Vermont (and writing a song about it – seek that elsewhere) we found our way to wine country in New York. This beautiful spot is Middleburg Winery. We also met an stayed with another Skoolie owner nearby. Sandy must have a flirtatious look.
Landing in the Delaware State Forest (in Pennsylvania, of course), we hoped to see a Squonk. If you know Squonks, you know the futility of hope. 

He’s a sly one, he’s a shy one, wouldn’t you be too?
Scared to be left all on his own
He hasn’t a, hasn’t a friend to play with the ugly duckling
The pressure on, the bubble will burst before our eyes
All the while in perfect time
His tears are falling on the ground
But if you don’t stand up, you don’t stand a chance ey ey ey yeh-yeh
You don’t stand a chance
Squonk poop?
We had a surprise visit from a hunter, who, disconcertingly, pulled into our campsite and wouldn’t leave. He was an ungainly fellow.

In one hand bread, the other a stone
The hunter enters the forest
All are not huntsmen who blow the huntsman’s horn and by the look of this one
You’ve not got much to fear
So – Holly and I enjoy pedaling around the forests we find, all the while wondering how we can be this lucky, and hoping we aren’t scaring the critters.

Walking home that night
The sack across my back the sound of sobbing on my shoulder
When suddenly it stopped
I opened up the sack, all that I had
A pool of bubbles and tears, just a pool of tears
Just a pool of tears
Thus, on a rainy day I sit and type, wondering – wishing really – to have as little impact as possible. Sometimes it seems our greatest service would be to simply get out of the way.

All in all you are a very dying race
Placing trust upon a cruel world
You never had the things you thought you should’ve had
And you’ll not get them now
And all the while in perfect time
Your tears are falling on the ground
I promise the next post won’t be dismal.

2 thoughts on “Squonk

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