Initially, I happened upon the cave and discovered it accidentally. The mouth was small, concealed by brush and and an overhanging of some greenery, the type of which I cannot recall ever seeing in New England before. Taking an exploratory backwoods expedition from my new and sturdy home with a wraparound porch, I stumbled upon the cave’s entrance at the bottom of a small hill in the forest while walking in a sort of wandering stupor. Paying no regard to the fact that I had lost my sense of direction prior to this discovery, I decided to investigate the darkness peering out at me like some blackened eye.
With me I had a canvas backpack previously purchased for a trip to Washington. Unslinging the pack from my shoulders and placing it on the ground before me, I removed a flashlight to aid me in my venture. Returning the backpack to my shoulders I attempted to illuminate the cave but the darkness retreated only eight or ten feet before holding its ground where the cave seemed to widen a bit.
I had to duck slightly upon entering the cave, for it had a rock ceiling shorter than I. There was the smell of damp rock, a fresh and cool scent, but with it came no refreshing wind. As I moved forward an overly oppressive silence filled my ears, making me deaf while the darkness blinded me. My beam of light was muted significantly by the shadows as I found enough room to stand several feet in past the entrance.
There was no sound of dripping water here, no wind howling through the cave. There was no rustle of leaves, scattering of rocks, or scampering of an animal. My own footfalls felt as if they were taking a year to reach my ears, there was no echo here, as one would have expected. It was a black, cool, and clean place burrowing in the dark hillside.
I stood still, my flashlight illuminating nothing but the rock enclosure I had moved into. I began to wonder if it had ever been discovered by someone else. Was I the first to enter here? Or perhaps others had been here before and I was the first to set my feet upon the path they too traveled, maybe hundreds of years ago. What natives of the land may have taken refuge here from a storm, or used this as a shelter? What hermits may have decided to put up here for a night, nights that became long and multiplied and grew into endless darkness here beneath the moon, the sun, the stars? And how far? How far had they gone?
Despite being utterly alone, I felt as if someone were with me. It was not assigned to any particular direction, I did not feel watched, nor followed – I felt as if someone were with me. More so in spirit than in physical manifestation. At first being puzzled by the feeling, I felt the hairs of my arm raise slightly in alarm, before the calm settled over me. Attributing this feeling to the darkness I moved forward.
This cave was new to me, regardless of whether it was new to anyone else of this earth, and so I considered it new as I walked deeper in the blackness. Having just gone through a move, most of this world was new. The wooded areas of the New England states were not akin to those of the arid pacific southwest. I was a man of sun living under the canopy of fall colored trees, leaves that sought to sprout and grow over me and my sun-worn skin, leaves that sought to lay a dark shadow across the sun-warped dashboard of my car, and leaves that sought, too, to softly rasp above my sun-washed lawnchair.
I was at fault for ruining things that I couldn’t blame the sun for.