MYSTERY ON THE MOUNTAIN

Sugarloaf Mountain stands like a sentinel, on the south rim of the valley of Little River. A strange and mysterious place, the old mountain, with its curious red rock formations and timeless old Oak trees, and the view of familiar places, so far away. It is all at once lonely, magical, beautiful and mysterious. The mystery is not frightening, but enchanting and seems only to deepen with Spring and the coming of new leaves on the trees.

If the old mountain could speak, it would recount legends of Indian scouts keeping watch from its prominence; of Indian Maidens fashioning beads from its rocky outcroppings; their Shamen, climbing to the summit for religious ceremony; of Spanish Soldiers and Priests making their way to East Texas missions, scaling its heights to survey the valley below and leaving crosses carved on some massive Oak trees; of outlaws and pioneer hunters who visited it’s lofty summit and took shelter in a secluded cave; of a gnarled old Oak, rooted in the mother rock and bearing acorns said to be half rock; of lovers seeking the seclusion of it’s clefts. Some say treasure is buried here, but even more precious is the bounty of beauty and mystery, and the unfolding of nature.

In Summer beneath blue sky and puffy white clouds, the heat and stillness are often oppressive. The mountain is home to birds and insects that send out their calls, penetrating the leafy solitude, but the mystery remains.

In Autumn, with the falling of the leaves, it seems the mystery is close to being revealed, but it is not so, for fast on the heels of Autumn comes Winter. Now gray clouds cover the sky, only the cold wind whispers through the bare branches of the trees. It reveals nothing!

Winter will give way to Spring and soon young leaves will come forth once more, deepening the mystery, and so it persists, just as it has, perhaps since the Earth was new.

Copyright: Robert L. Gaston, February 1987
Used by permission