SCHUYLKILL SHORT STORY: The Travelers
By: Mamie Edmonds
Driving North on Route 183 from Bernville to Reedsville, drivers can be sure to see the cowboy sitting atop his horse on the roof of the Blue Ridge Hotel. A little further along, those same travelers will pass by the Native American princess on her own horse, high above the rocks at the entrance to Lake Wynonah.
During this witching season, when anything is possible as the worlds of fantasy and reality collide, it is easy to imagine that late at night, when all but the long-haul truckers and third-shifters are home sleeping, the two lone riders step down from their perches to meet somewhere in the middle. No one knows where they journey to, or what they see on their travels, but maybe they do the same things we regular folk do. Take a ride to Bill’s Produce to pick up a few apples for the faithful stallion and mare? Stop by Lake Wynonah for a sip of chilly lake water? Maybe take a slow walk through the corn maze at Martin’s Farm Market? The possibilities are endless, and the crowds non-existent for this pair.
During the day, each watches as travelers pass by on their way to places the pair may never see. But as twilight settles in, and dawn is still hours away, magic could be happening. All we have to do to be a part of it is to imagine the possibilities … and listen for the faint clip-clop of horses in the night.