A visit to Poet Smith Drive
Posted by:
Charles Schneider (IP Logged)
Date: 2 September, 2008 02:00PM
I have recently moved to Nevada City, a few dozen miles or so from Auburn. Just being in Clark Ashton Smith's neck of the woods has been so inspiring and a rarified experience. There truly is a mystical weirdness in the woods and skies at night. So, yesterday, I drove to explore the region he lived in. Stopped by a fine bookstore in Auburn, where I could not afford a fine Smith tome encased in glass. Drove on to the very developed Poet Smith Drive.( Existing photos are on this site by others. I hope to post some new ones.) I found what I knew in my bones was his cabin site. Not much to see at first. Large boulders here and there covered in furry, grotesque lichen. Some seemed to form leering faces of mold. Fragments of an old wall, hand formed from old stones. A large rock stood out that had a valley-like scratched ancient groove hand-cut into it, showing years of wear. this looked like a sharpening stone, which one might use, venturing outside when needed, to use as a whetstone. Not sure if this was the spot. (later photo comparisons affirmed the locale) Poked around. Ancient wood. Picked some up. Burnt, charred smell. Felt utter frisson sweep over me. Past the vacant field I stare beyond to the dark and looming hobgoblin woods. Past the lurid modern development. Hungry for the antiquated and pure. Twisted old trees still danced their arthritic wooden dance. Mere saplings at best after Smith had moved. Seeing how much had changed was not so dreadful. Our minds can render lost glories timeless. It was an honor to be there, in the warm late afternoon wind. In a most sacred and silent spot in the cosmos where a great magician had once wrought uncanny magic in ink and stone. I shall return very often and, perhaps, secretly plant exotic, decadent & carnivorous plants there (in season) in hopes that they might thrive on that blasted heath.
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 2 Sep 08 | 02:03PM by Charles Schneider.