Hiking poles and backpacks in hand, the other day Dennis and I walked across State Game Lands. Dennis came with me, not that he usually walks with me, but that day he did. And I am always grateful when he joins me. We walked past the forestry gate, down a long forestry road. We turned off the road a while later and headed down a narrow woods path. Deeper into the forest we headed: through the woods, past ancient trees and woodland flowers. Sometimes the path was easily to follow…..other moments we would have to veer around natural barricades. We threaded our way through the woods breathing in the soft fresh smells of the morning, listening to the forest sounds. No cell signal, no phone apps, just a piece of paper in our pocket telling us where we were headed. Our breathing was relaxed and it felt like the cares of the world were slowly leaving us behind. There was no need to talk. Soon we heard it…the faint sound of water rushing over rocks. My heart raced with anticipation as we neared our destination. We were looking for a certain mountain stream….a green glade in the forest punctuated by the silvery flow of fresh pure water. You know the distinctive sound of water over a bed of rocks….a certain woodland music. And very soon, we were there. Well almost there. We could see the water below us, but mountain glades always have embankments to climb. And so I was off:
working my way down to the surface of the water: more and more fully immersed in the experience with every careful step.
At my age, it‘s harder and harder to safely negotiate the rutted and steep embankments these secluded places always have. But a safe descent brings such a sense of release and freedom. Seclusion. Independence. A weightlessness of sorts.
And an overture of thoughts to go with the symphony of the waters….
It’s easy to rest here. To drain the mind of negative. To breathe in the good and fresh and pure of the forest. To contemplate the wonders of “finding the mother tree:”.. of the legends of the mountains and waters, of the peoples who have stepped here before me, of all that is good and pure.
But then it was time to leave…it’s always time to leave….and so I worked my way back up the steep embankment, back to where Dennis was waiting with extended hand to pull me back to him…and to the present.
We walked the long ways back to our car in silence, each of us immersed in our thoughts. We’d soon be moving on to using Google maps and to thoughts of our plans for later in the day, of the potential struggles of everyday life.
Back at the car, we met two Pennsylvania game wardens and chatted. They asked us how we found such an isolated place and I pulled the directions out of my back pocket.
Our conversation was thoughtful…about the impact of eco tourism, both good and bad. About conservation and the importance of that message. About the burdens of our culture on our environment. And then it was over. But not over. The meaningful experience of the mountain stream will stay with us. And with you through me.
Take a moment now and close your eyes….and dream your own mountain stream dreams. They aren’t far away….as long as you can imagine it, the message is always there.
Peace….from the nearest and furthest ….mountain stream. ❤️
Comments