I made the climb. Another fire tower.
Second one in a month. I’d looked it up before driving out to Blue Rock State Park, and every trail map and hiker report said the fire tower cab was open. So I drove. I hiked. I climbed.
And it was locked. I wouldn’t care if it wasn’t supposed to be open, the view was still amazing.
No interior. Just wire railing, rusted stairs, and that strange feeling of being high up and let down at the same time.
But the trail still gave me something. Actually, two things. Two Heart-Shaped Fossil Plates, Found By Accident
I wasn’t fossil hunting, not really. But like always, my eyes stay low to the trail. Always scanning for the strange and the almost-heart-shaped. And there they were. These two fossil plates, shale-gray and layered, both shaped like hearts. One had coral lines across the surface like it had been pressed into memory. The other was chunkier, heavy in the hand.
I keep these for my fiancé. Wherever I go, if the earth offers me a heart, I take it to them. And then kelso puts them in a heart jar.
These two are the latest in the growing pile. None of them are polished or perfect. Most still have dirt in the lines. But that’s the point. They’re not shaped by effort they’re just found, already waiting. Like gifts from the earth for me to take home.
The Tower Was Closed, But the Trail Gave More
The cab being locked wasn’t that big of a deal. I’d imagined sitting cross-legged on the floor of the tower, eating a snack, writing a line or two. Smoking a joint. Just being above the trees for a while.
Instead, I stood on the platform, held the railing, and looked through the metal. I did get to see a cute tiny lock a couple but in the fencing on the side together. I love locks on the wild.
Sometimes the ground gives more than the sky.
I got to see Luna from way up above. My friend sky and her baby stayed on the ground with her.
