It is not far. Just down an ancient path leading from the cottage. Following the narrow, winding path through the trees, footsteps lead out onto a level rock point jutting over the Gasconade river valley.
It has been an important location for centuries. It is where many of my boyhood memories were inscribed. Many years earlier, Native Americans trod the same worn trail and felt the same pull of the eye toward distant horizons. And, they left traces.
Near the edge of the point, a natural rock formation provides a comfortable seat. There, pockets in the limestone rock held abundant small flint chips when I was a boy. Those flakes, no doubt, remained from a prehistoric arrowhead knapper who must have loved the site as well. Below the point in rocky overhangs, remnants of that primitive society can still be found.
It is still a spot for dreaming. On mild evenings years ago, my brother and I would take a coffee pot, build a fire, and stay well into the darkness discussing our future lives, exploits, and the coming wonders of growing up. My brother is now gone, but those gentle memories comfort me.
More recently the point has been a place for proposals of marriage between lovers — guests at Rock Eddy Bluff Farm www.rockeddy.com.
The only modern addition to the rock point: a wooden bench for comfort during contemplation and meditation. The photo at right looks down river toward Rock Eddy Bluff, where we abide.
