Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Shimmering Air

Early in the morning—too early for one who’d gone to bed at 10:30 and 12:00 previous evenings—I rouse off the chesterfield. Sun’s already up, and the day basking in her smile. Pack last few items of food and clothing, then drive quiet out the lane. Road stretches long and silent. It is early, and it is Sunday.

Follow along, through border crossing, into mountain country. There, I find the prize, the campground of friends. We sort and pack and laugh light in morning levity. We’re endeavouring a 15-mile hike today. We start later than planned, but no one minds. I settle with ease into this loving family of artists and dreamers.

So we begin, our trek revealing nuggets of beauty in the world, and in each other. Each person is a treasure trove, as they open up and share, I see the glimmer and beauty of soul, and know even deeper that this one is precious.

So we delve, we march, we balance, we tiptoe, on and on in this journey. Exploration gives way to awe, to praise, then to the contented silence of kindled, deepened enjoyment and wonder. We inhale shimmering air, the vistas glimmer in happy haze, and we feel alive.

Some of us take our own dare to climb an extra two miles to the fire lookout. Why, we cannot say, except for the mere adventure of it all. A gruelling ascent, and we question our sanity. But at the top, it’s all worth the effort. We gaze for ages, further into the mountain range, deeper to the distant camp, and beyond to the flattened prairies, basking in their own unique glory.

Then we go down, descending for half the journey. Its ease comes laced with specialized pain, danger, and glory. Our perspective diminishes as we sink lower into the engulfing crevices. We talk less and listen more. Legs turn to jelly, hands swell, tongues crave water, and hearts long for comforts and rest of camp.

Sun sets as we arrive, move slow, linger long over hot dinner, and talk deep into the black night.

The stars above us sing and beam with pleasure. We look up, and know we are small, know we are known, know we are loved.

And our every breath echoes creation’s symphony.

1 comment:

Davd K said...

well....I guess that says it all.... swelling fingers?? or swell comrades.... hehe thanks for coming lady...!! dk

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