reflecting - paulina lake, october 2015 |
Weekend getaways
are all about kicking back and well, getting away from the entire buzz of
life. Caffeine excluded from this
statement.
Somewhere
around noon of day two’s whatever we want to do schedule, my baby and I decided
to hike around the lake that we’d been watching transform before our eyes. The distance was seven and a half miles
according to the sign. That sounded
totally do-able. Especially since
yesterday we had ventured out on two shorter hikes that amounted to six or so
miles. Besides, we’d walked a small part
of the trail; it seemed like a pretty comfortable walk by the lake. First glances can be deceiving.
Now, in
all fairness to avid outdoors people, it probably was easy peasy. But to this urban girl, who only a few years
ago had given up her love of walking due to not pleasant back pain from nerves having
their life squeezed out; this hike was of larger-than-life proportions.
I noticed the scenery; which was stunning. The sun
shot diamonds on the water that was disturbed with white caps the day before. Trees changed from lanky and unattractive
lodge pole to towering pines and girthed Doug firs. There were scrubby juniper bushes loaded with
dusty blue berries, thinking gin, tonic and extra lime …
trails change |
The trail
took on different personalities. Parts
that were wide and softly padded with needles and other forest stuff that had
fallen to the floor. Without giving the
slightest clue, the path would climb up above a cinder flow with the craggy
pieces littering the way. Other times we
walked along a narrow edge that dropped to the water, stepping over big volcanic
rocks rooted in the earth. All to
descend to a marshy beach where the lake lapped almost inaudibly.
The restful lapping was then broken with what appeared to be smashed glass as shards of
obsidian lined the route. And so the day
and journey progressed.
At one point we
stopped to breathe in, Lonny reading a chapter from a book to me in the cool
shade; two flat rocks forming our stools.
Tranquil and romantic.
As the day
and trail wore on my body became weary, beginning to ache and fatigue. My pace slowed and my participation in our
light and deep conversation faded into one word answers.
Lon took
Belle, took the lead and slowed our pace.
I knew it
was basic to take one step at a time.
Stopping was not an option. Each
step, one in front of the other, brought me closer to my beginning which was
also the end. There was this certain,
quiet determination in each placement of my feet. I knew I could do it, I had to do it.
My darling
man picked up our conversation, filling the silent moments, those moments when
maybe you want to stop. His words of, “look
at this,” or “did you see that?” acted like a line pulling me along.
He didn’t
have to say “keep walking,” his pace and words told me more.
Missy
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good food for thought..do we encourage each other??? with unspoken words, a hug, a touch on the shoulder or maybe just a smile? This touched my inner soul..Love Mom
ReplyDeleteOh, to have our souls touched by what we see and hear...life, our world would be a better place. Thanks for reading, Mom!
DeleteIt's wonderful you didn't have to do it alone. Seven miles would have left me in the dust. Glad you made it all the way but what would be your options?
ReplyDeleteSo very true, Marlene. We often don't have an option, but to keep going. Although, Lonny did say he'd carry me. That would have been a sight! Thanks for reading.
Delete