Hello, fellow lovers of all things green,
After an unsettling morning recently, I decided to soothe my soul with a walk in the woods. Jolee and I headed to the Paulinskill Valley Trail, parking at the lot by Footbridge Park to walk our often-traveled three-mile route to Blairstown Airport and back. But barricades greeted us with Park Service signs: “Area Closed.”
Access was easy beyond the barrier, and I considered investigating, but honored the announcement. So, leaving the truck parked, we walked beyond Footbridge Park to the trail entrance in the opposite direction.
So you could say I didn’t choose another route, but was guided there. And as it turned out, the path brought treasures, memories, and reflections that helped my heart.
Late-Summer Beauty Along the Paulinskill Valley Trail
I always enjoy the life of the woods and the beautiful combinations of plants Mother Nature creates. There’s something about walking amongst trees that draws my attention away from the noise in my head and toward the beauty around me.
White wood asters (Eurybia divaricata) are beginning their late-summer show, their small white flowers hovering above dark green foliage and mingling with colonies of Christmas fern (Polystichum acrostichoides) and lady fern (Athyrium filix-femina).
Jolee among the late-summer white wood asters along the Paulinskill Valley Trail.
Have you noticed how many woodland wildflowers bloom white? Their flowers are especially luminous in the subdued light beneath the tree canopy, luring a host of late-season pollinators. White seems to glow at dusk and dawn.
Yes, there was Japanese stilt grass here and there among them, and I felt the urge to weed it out. But had I started, I might still be there.
Jolee remembered the trail even though we hadn’t traveled this direction together in a long while. She knew the little paths leading down to the Paulins Kill and headed toward the water for a dip.
It’s funny how dogs remember these things.
I kept her on a retractable leash rather than letting her do her usual explorations, mostly in pursuit of chipmunks. I wasn’t up for keeping track of her gallivanting that day, and she didn’t seem to mind.
On the return trip, we made our way down a rocky slope to a small pool someone had fashioned with stones in a nook along the water’s edge. The water was fresh and clear, and Jolee happily stepped in. I considered dipping my feet too, but the day wasn’t quite warm enough.
Traces of Another Time
Back on the trail, the old railroad cinders turned Jolee’s wet pads black—a trace of another time next to the wildflowers and ferns of today.
The Paulinskill Valley Trail follows the former New York, Susquehanna & Western Railway, which once carried passengers, coal, produce, and dairy products through the valley. Pieces of its history linger beneath our feet and alongside the trail.
The old railroad milepost along the Paulinskill Valley Trail – JC 81.
I came upon one of them—an old concrete milepost marked “JC 81,” signifying 81 miles to Jersey City, the railroad’s eastern terminus.
But in that moment, I saw something else.
JC brought Jesus Christ to mind, and the 8, turned sideways, became the symbol for infinity. The One stood alone beside it.
I smiled.
Sometimes we see what we need to see. My heart lifted.
Farther along on our return, I noticed another old mile marker tossed off to the side, perhaps displaced when widening the trail or during other work there. Seeing pieces of history cast aside always makes me sad. History tells us where we’ve been. Even when the landscape moves forward, there is value in remembering what came before.
And there was a great deal to remember along that particular stretch of trail.
Remembering the Paulina Dam
Paulina Dam in 2020, four years before its removal
The nearly 130-year-old Paulina Dam near East Crisman Road in Blairstown, NJ, was removed in 2024, allowing the Paulins Kill to return to its natural, free-flowing state.
I remember this landscape before the dam came down. The Paulins Kill spread wide behind it, creating a broad, lake-like expanse of water, and houses sat high above the river, enjoying magnificent water views. I loved watching turtles sun themselves on logs and rocks below.
The dam itself had a presence. I remember the tremendous sound of water spilling over it and the misty spray that felt wonderful on a hot summer day.
I walked that trail during different chapters of my life.
Ellie resting at one of our favorite viewpoints along the trail.
One of my tenderest memories is coming here with Ellie when she was sick. She couldn’t walk very far, so Curt and I sat at a viewpoint with her. It was one of those precious times between us—tender and kind and loving—as we shared our love and concern for our girl. It was one of our last walks here with Ellie.
A few years later, Jolee learned some of those same little trails to the water.
A Landscape Beginning Again
I also walked this section with Curt after the dam was removed, before nature began reclaiming much of the newly exposed land. The landscape looked raw then. Now it’s changing again.
A very different Paulins Kill after the removal of the Paulina Dam.
Protective tubes surround newly planted trees, and vegetation is filling areas that were underwater for generations. The river itself looks dramatically different. Where there had been a wide expanse of water, the Paulins Kill is narrow again, twisting and turning as it’s meant to be.
Below one of the houses, a paddle boat rested off to the side—a castaway from the landscape that used to be there. I wondered about the people living in those houses. Their broad river views had changed dramatically. Were they sad? Did they miss the water as it used to be?
The dam’s removal was to restore the natural flow of the Paulins Kill and reconnect habitat. Still, I couldn’t help thinking about the turtles I used to watch sunning themselves on those logs and rocks. Where do they sun themselves now?
One of my favorite sights – a gathering of sunbathing turtles before the Paulina Dam was removed.
Of course, nature adapts. Wildlife finds new places. Plants recolonize newly exposed soil. Rivers reshape their banks.
But for a moment, it felt almost ghostlike—the paddle boat with no broad water to paddle upon, houses overlooking a view entirely different from the one their owners had known, and young trees beginning where water once stood.
Finding Our Way Again
My own memories layered over the landscape: Ellie, Jolee, Curt, and me.
Different walks. Different times. Different versions of our lives.
Sadness can come from watching something familiar disappear, even when we understand that what is happening may ultimately be restorative. Yet beneath that sense of loss, I could feel something else—the breath of a river returned to its natural state.
The Paulins Kill is finding its way again.
Jolee and I, continuing along the trail, finding our way.
Which brings me back to those barricades at Footbridge Park. I hadn’t intended to walk this way at all. I intended to take the familiar path—the one I knew, the route I had planned.
Sometimes the familiar path is closed, and all we can do is turn in another direction and keep walking.
So interesting, isn’t it, when we look back at transitions in our lives and realize we couldn’t see the path ahead? I don’t think we’re meant to.
And as Jolee and I continued along the Pauliskill Valley Trail, I realized with gratitude that I am finding my way, too.
Resilience Comes with Restoration
Many of you are navigating transitions of your own—some very difficult. I believe we are here to help each other through them, love each other, gain from the wisdom of nature and our gardens, and find comfort in observing their rhythms.
The history of what came before matters because we learn from it.
Wounds heal, and growth begins again.
Thank you for walking this Garden of Life with me.
Garden Dilemmas? AskMaryStone@gmail.com or tune in on your favorite Podcast App.
Prefer to Listen?
This story is also a feature in this week’s episode of Garden Dilemmas, Delights & Discoveries, with additional memories and reflections from along the trail:
Related Posts and Podcasts:
Preservation of the Paulins Kill River – Blog Post
Ep 185. Preservation of the Paulins Kill – Overcoming Hardships
Helpful Links:
