Fort Knox, Maine

This is Fort Knox, Maine. Its construction was started in 1844. The argument that resulted in so much money and manpower being spent was that British troops had occupied northern Maine during both the Revolution and the War of 1812, more than thirty years earlier, but what if something like that ever happened again? What if? For twenty five years it was under construction. Troops never lived in it. No battle was ever fought there. 

I’ve been there a number of times now, and it’s always struck me as a strange place. Signs tell the story of soldiers who never lived there. 

The floors of some sections are the dirt of the hillside, having never been finished. It’s got a dungeon vibe in places. 

Upkeep keeps happening, 

but not at a pace that outpaces Mother Nature.

So on this visit I found myself asking “what exactly is this a monument to?” I asked Adam “Is this a monument to fear?” Without missing a beat he responded “It’s a monument to the military-industrial complex.” (God, I love that man.) “Right,” was my one word reply. 

“Someone needs to come here and write subversive poetry,” was one thought I had, but I’m not a poet. 

So I decided that if the whole thing was mine to do with as I please, I would offer it back to Mother Nature. I would humbly ask that She take this bit of our larger folly and redeem it. I would stop all preservation efforts, but continue to invite people to come and watch Mother Nature reclaim this bit of land. (And maybe write a bit of subversive poetry while here.) 

Then when the building became unsafe, I would still invite people to come and walk circles like prayerful pilgrims around the building as it came tumbling down, as ferns and wildflowers unmade what men of war once made. That’s what I would do.