In suburban Brookdale Park in Montclair I found this small but impressive outcrop jutting out of the ground at the head of a spring. I stood at its base and my shoe sank into the leafy mush while I took some of these pictures–still no fishing boots. The weathered surface of the rock is a mottled pinkish-grey as you can see, you can only tell from recent fractures that this sandstone is as brown as the Jersey dirt, as a Brooklyn row house.
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Fiddle-head ferns. Delicacies. Quick-cooked, a little salt and butter. It's a Maritime Canadian passion. And these are on the rocks of the First Watchung Range, the friendly outliers of the Appalachians. How lovely, how homey.
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