Apple Pie Hill
This morning I’m going to Apple Pie Hill;
It’s down in the barrens just past Scutter’s Mill.
I’ll gather wildberries that grow by the stream;
They’re juicy and plump like a succulent dream.
A forest of scrub pine as high as your knees,
The sandy conditions result in dwarf trees,
But off in the boglands, cranberries are found,
While June and Bear berries, and Huckles abound.
I’ll seek out the tower where rangers observe.
They’re watching for fires, this land to preserve.
Endangered bald eagles and black skimmers soar,
In need of protection, or they’ll be no more.
I’m going, I’m going, where curly ferns grow,
The soil is sandy and cedar streams flow.
The water’s tea-colored from roots of old trees—
A woodsy aroma still clings to the breeze.
The flowers are stunning across this pineland—
A yellow Pine Heather that blooms in the sand,
The red-petaled Goat’s Rue and Cinnamon Fern,
These hues of a rainbow each season return.
The once thriving hamlet of Harrisville’s gone;
Its only attendee — a deer with her fawn.
Forgotten foundations now bake in the sun,
Beside Lake Oswego where dark waters run.
Most say it’s a ghost town, that souls linger there,
And sounds of a paper mill still haunt the air.
You’ll get the odd feeling that you’re not alone;
The wind in the bush has a whispery tone.
Some tell of a devil that roams in the pine,
Though I’ve never seen it, I’ve looked for a sign.
A plot by the Pineys to keep strangers out,
That old Jersey Devil will scare them no doubt.
Elusive bog lemmings and otters are seen,
And lodges of beavers that keep waters clean.
The croaking of male frogs envelops the night;
This tree-climbing frog’s an unusual sight.
Beyond every bend there’s another surprise,
Meandering rivers and streams meet your eyes.
I’ll paddle the Mullica, swim the Maurice,
Or float on the Wading to find inner peace.
And that’s why I’m going to Apple Pie Hill;
It’s down in the barrens just past the old mill.
I’ll hike on the sand trails, perhaps see a fox—
This beautiful pineland’s a grand paradox.
Harrisville papermill ruins & Pinelands Treefrog
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