Sam’s Point

We had the feeling, making our way towards the falls on this still icy and snow-covered path, that we were on a kind of “sky island,” as Rebecca put it. High, remote and desolate, this plain felt like a place apart, where a natural community like no other has taken root and held on stubbornly against the plant and animal invasions that have beset most ecosystems in this region. What makes this dwarf pitch pine forest so compelling to me is that isolation didn’t provide it with a sheltered nook to grow in, but rather a harsh and forbidding environment. Wind-lashed and fire-scorched, in thin, sterile soil, these gnarled pines are true survivors, thriving where other plants can’t. It could be said that the elements themselves have pruned them, so their dwarf shapes result from a kind of wild bonsai. They are among the hardy pioneers of the plant world, and we felt privileged to walk in their midst. We didn’t reach the falls that day, running out of the time we had allotted for our walk, but we were not really disappointed. We were continually fascinated by our surroundings, as if they were truly exotic. We felt as Darwin might have felt encountering the plant and animal rarities of the Galapagos, except that we were so close to home.