Right now, there are tens or hundred of hikers stepping off at Springer, beginning their journey up a river called the A.T. to Katahdin. It’s spawning season on the Appalachian Trail.
Just picture it in your mind. If you could catapault up out of your chair say, 100 miles into space and look down at Springer, you’d see them.
But of those hundreds who are starting out, how many will make it to the spawing ground at Katadhin? For many are the salmon who enter the rivers each season, but far fewer who make it up all the way. How many will fall prey to weakness, preditors, rouge currents, water toxins, and other impediments to the long journey? How many will get to lay their seed in the breeding ground at K?
Hikers as salmon. The introduction to a book. A metaphor. What do you think?
Brook Trout